1888
by angeliqueFanfic
Summary: Jack the Ripper AU. Jane Rizzoli travels to London and meets Lady Isles, a noblewoman fascinated with Forensic Science. Very much Jane and Maura as we love and adore them, just set in Victorian England. Rizzles! Give it a go, you'll love it, I promise! Chapter 25 is up: Maura sneaks into the crime scene of Mary Jane Kelly.
1. London

_**Here we go, I'm re-posting everything again. This is your chance to catch up with this story, I think my best so far. Thank you to Witless544, all the way in England, for all her help and for making this so much fun to write. **_

_**I'm really sorry about all the wonderful reviews that got lost.**_

_**I'm taking advantage of the re-post to change Frost's description and keep him as-is, a gorgeous black man, instead of turning him into a red-head, because when I write him, I just can't picture him as someone else. We'll just ignore the implications of having a black man detective in England in 1888.**_

Jane Rizzoli picked up her suitcase and walked, along with hundreds of other passengers, down the gangway and onto British soil. It had taken the SS Adriatic seven days to cross the Atlantic from New York to Liverpool. It was late morning, and the air was chilly. A light drizzle was blowing across the harbor, dampening Jane's thick wool coat she was hurrying to button up with one hand.

She was ushered along towards the train station, where she climbed onboard a second class wagon for another 4 hours to London.

Sitting in the crowded compartment, she reviewed the telegram her father had received the week prior. Her brother Thomas Rizzoli had been arrested and was about to receive trial in London on the 26 of July, 1888, for murder. She guessed they had only been informed as a courtesy, because her father was a well-known South Boston Sheriff. The gruff man had sent Jane to sort it out and try to help Thomas, if possible, only because his wife's desperate pleas. The whole family had become numb to the eldest brother's run-ins with the law, and this time, it seemed he might be beyond their reach.

Jane sighed and closed her eyes, lulled to sleep by the rhythmic railroad clatter.

London smelled. It smelled like human refuse, sweat and coal. People everywhere, dense and loud. Jane had always thought of Boston as a big, busy city, but London was proving her wrong. It made any city in the United States look like a small village. A map in hand, Jane made her way to the Orsett Street boarding house she'd be staying at. Jane felt like the cobblestone ground was still swaying under her feet. It started raining.

Half an hour later, wet and cold, Jane set her suitcase in front of the small desk at the boarding house. She was towering a good head above the deputy keeper. After having a good look at the tall brunette, her hair wild and wet, he took her money and wrote her a receipt. He carried her suitcase to the third floor, where she'd share a room with another American lady, the man informed her.

Jane took off her wet clothes and hung them on the back of the chair. She took her boots off and washed up in the small basin next to the commode. Then she laid down on the double bed. She wondered which side she'd be taking. The custom was to defer to the previous tenant.

It was getting dark outside, and Jane didn't know if she could still make it to the police station. She sighed and pushed herself up from the bed. Her coat felt cold and clammy when she put it on. Her hand dipped under her jacket, and she felt the handle of her small handgun by her side. Back home, she'd carry a six-shooter, but it was less easy to conceal.

The police station where Thomas was arrested was a few blocks away. Jane had picked the boarding house for that reason. The building was well lit, and she was grateful for the warm gush of air that greeted her inside. An officer stood behind a tall counter.

"I'm Jane Rizzoli, I'm here to see my brother, Thomas."

"Oh, the American sailor." He looked at her disheveled state. "You're late, but I can go fetch him. Come this way."

He left her in a small, windowless room. There was a bench and a chair, separated by a small table. She sat on the chair facing the door. Minutes later, the door opened and Thomas walked in, shacked around his legs and hands. The officer pushed him down on the bench, and chained him up to the anchor on the floor before leaving the room.

"Jane! Where's dad?" He looked around the room expectantly.

"Dad couldn't make it. He sent me."

"You? What are you going to do? Shoot them all? I need dad to tell them I didn't do it!"

"Didn't you do it?"

"No! I didn't kill the guy! I wasn't even there. They say they found blood on my jacket, but I don't know what they're talking about!"

Jane sighed. It sounded like the same Thomas who always made excuses for his troubles. But maybe this time he was a little more sincere. Maybe she was imagining it, maybe she wanted to believe him, because they were far from home and alone.

"What do you know then?"

"I only knew the guy from the ship we were on for a week. Him and his buddies took me in, but when we docked, I didn't see them again."

"Where were you at the time of the murder?"

Thomas took his head between his shackled hands and mumbled something.

"What?"

"I was in Whitechapel, with a... a girl."

"A prostitute?"

"Yeah."

"Wow, no alibi. And of course nobody saw you."

"I usually avoid making an impression."

The officer opened the door and released Thomas from the padlock. Jane got up and touched his arm.

"Jane, I didn't do it! Please, trust me."

"I'm trying. I'll try my best, Tommy."

"I don't want to die, please!" Thomas followed the officer back to his cell, in the damp darkness of a long hallway. Jane stood in front of the small room, shivering in her coat.

A man in a dark rain coat startled her. He had dark skin, really pretty eyes and full lips. He couldn't have been more than 30. Too young for Jane.

"Are you his sister? You look like him."

"Yeah. I'm Jane."

She offered her hand.

"Detective Frost. Barry Frost. Is that what you do in America?" He shook her hand, surprised by her casual manners.

Jane smiled for the first time in days. "I guess. Maybe not. That's what I do. My father's a sheriff," she offered as an excuse. He nodded in appreciation.

"A fellow law enforcement officer. I knew there was something about you." He winked at Jane, and they chuckled.

A brief silence passed before Barry spoke again.

"The case against him is pretty solid. Doctor Pike determined the blood on his jacket belonged to the victim."

"How can you determine that?" Jane furrowed her brows, pretty sure there wasn't any way to link blood to a person. A lifetime of dinner conversations with her father had taught her a thing or two about crime investigations.

Officer Frost shrugged. "I don't know, he's the doctor. Even though he's been known to make mistakes..."

He hesitated, looked around to make sure nobody was listening. The station was pretty quiet, other than the quiet moans of the drunks stashed in the nearby cells. He leaned over to Jane, looking up at her.

"I know someone who might be able to help you. She's helped us on a few occasions, when Pike couldn't figure it out. She's a noblewoman, Lady Maura Isles. She's... peculiar, but very smart. She's a scientist."

"What does she do?"

"She can examine a dead body and determine the manner of death, even when it's hidden. She can tell a substance from another, and once she even told us where to find the murderer just from the dirt under the victim's shoes."

He spoke like it was sorcery. Jane seemed impressed. She had heard of forensic science on a few occasions.

"How do I find her?"

Barry pulled out his notebook and scribbled an address down. He ripped the page and gave it to Jane.

"That's in the nice part of town," he informed her.

"Is it too late to go?"

"It's about eight. She'd be finishing supper. I hear she stays up late in her lab."

Jane pondered her options for a second. Detective Frost stepped back.

"Anyways, good luck. Maybe I'll see you around." He flashed a radiant smile at her, and walked off towards the back office.

Jane looked down at the piece of paper with Lady Isles' address written on it. She walked outside and checked her pocket for change, before getting in a carriage. She showed the driver the address. He lifted his brow, looked at her and shrugged. He clicked for the horses to start.


	2. Meeting Lady Isles

After a good twenty minutes, the carriage turned into the graveled path leading to Lady Isles' mansion. It slowly came to a stop and the driver stepped down to let Jane out. It was dark, and she could see a few lights flickering on the second floor. She climbed the few steps up to the front porch, and banged the heavy knocker on the door.

The carriage took off loudly, leaving her alone, waiting for someone to answer the door. She knocked again. Suddenly, a small panel slid aside and the face of a woman peeked through the hole.

"Who's there?"

"Hello, my name is Jane Rizzoli, I'm here for Lady Isles?"

"She's not expecting company tonight. You may be confused."

"I'm sorry to bother her so late, but Detective Frost sent me. I need her help."

"Oh. I see." She closed the sliding panel, unlocked the door and pulled it open. She stepped aside and Jane walked in.

"Wait here. I'll see if Lady Isles will see you."

The maid hurried upstairs and Jane paced around in the entrance hall. The decoration was sparse, but every piece was a marvel of craftsmanship. A small clock marked a quarter to nine.

The maid came back down.

"Miss Rizzoli? Follow me."

Jane pulled her frumpy dress up and followed upstairs. They turned into a dimly lit hallway, passing several doors. The maid stopped in front of two double doors and knocked softly before entering.

"My Lady, this is Miss Rizzoli."

"Come in. Mary, you can leave us. Have a good night."

"Good night, my Lady." Mary curtsied and closed the door behind her.

Jane looked around the room. A fire was burning in the chimney. Lady Isles was standing in front of a built-in bookshelf, and slid a big volume back in its slot. She turned and walked towards Jane. Her features were exquisite. Her dress was simple but elegant. Her honey-blonde hair was loosely tied back with a black ribbon, probably more for practical reasons than pure vanity. Jane couldn't help but stare. She remembered to curtsy at the last second.

"Lady Isles, I'm so very sorry to..."

"Call me Maura." She extended her hand, and Jane shook it.

"I'm Jane. Jane Rizzoli."

Just like Detective Frost earlier with her, Jane was surprised by the noblewoman's casual manners. They held hands a little longer than necessary, a mutual understanding passing between the two women.

"Are you Thomas's sister?"

"Yes, yes I am."

"Come sit with me." She stopped and looked at Jane up and down. "Take off your coat. It's drenched. Hang it by the fire. We'll get you a clean dress later."

Jane was hanging her pathetic coat on the back of a chair by the fire. "I don't really need a..."

"Nonsense. We'll get this one cleaned and you can wear one of mine. Are you here to ask me about your brother?" She patted the spot next to her on the sofa. Jane sat down and stretched her legs rather crudely in front of her, but the lure of the warm fire proved too tempting.

"Yes, I'm here for my brother. I hear they found the victim's blood on his jacket."

"Doctor Pike is a buffoon. One cannot positively link blood to a person. If it is indeed blood at all."

"What? Wait. You mean it might not even be blood?"

"Who can say? Speculation and conclusion seem to mean the same thing to Dr. Pike."

Jane shook her head. "This Dr. Pike doesn't seem very capable. Why do the police use him?"

"Because it keeps him from killing more live patients. And I'm always more than happy to assist them when they need a competent analysis."

Jane nodded and smirked. Things weren't so different here than across the Atlantic.

The American looked into the fire, and Maura observed Jane's profile in the flickering light.

"Your features are exquisite. Your bone structure is very strong, high cheekbones, straight nose. You're beautiful," Maura declared without hesitation.

Jane looked back at her and laughed out loud.

"You are quite the peculiar one, you know that? Detective Frost was right."

Maura seemed to flinch slightly. Jane immediately placed a hand on her arm.

"No, no, in a good way. I appreciate your openness. Please, take it as a compliment. And thank you, that is so nice of you to say."

Maura smiled again. Jane could have melted from it.

"So, would you help my brother? I'm not saying he didn't do it, but I don't want him to get hanged if he's innocent, only because of a buffoon's speculations."

Maura chuckled and nodded. She stood up and lifted Jane's coat to turn it to the other side.

"We'll have to ask Detective Frost to give us access to the incriminating garment. I need to be able to look at it and run some tests. If you can, talk to your brother and ask him about an alibi."

"He claims to have been in Whitechapel, with a..."

Maura scrunched her nose and sighed.

"We can try and ask around. I volunteer at the infirmary there a couple of times a week. It's unlikely we'll find any witnesses, but you never know."

Jane's stomach emitted a loud growl.

"Oh, how rude of me, have you eaten tonight?" Maura asked, concerned.

"Actually, not since this morning. I'm really sorry. I should go. I can come back tomorrow."

"Not at all. There should be food in the kitchen. Jean-Pierre is gone for the night, but we can fix up something for you. Come with me!"

Maura didn't bother hiding her excitement. Jane felt like they were two kids who had found each other a new friend. She liked Maura. Jane followed her downstairs into the kitchen. Maura lit a lamp with her candle, and she rummaged through the pantry. She retrieved some nut bread, several pieces of cheese, an apple and a piece of smoked duck. She set everything on the table and Jane pulled up two chairs for them.

They sat down and Maura watched as Jane stuffed pieces of bread and duck into her mouth. The brunette chewed fast and swallowed, realizing how hungry she had been. She gestured at Maura. The Lady shook her head.

"Go ahead. I've had supper already, thank you. Oh, pardon my manners, anything to drink?"

She got up and went back to the pantry. She set a half bottle of red wine on the table, and went to fetch some wine glasses in the adjacent dining room. Jane couldn't stop eating, and she watched Maura pour the wine in front of her. She picked up the glass and Jane interrupted her eating briefly to touch her glass to Maura's before taking a sip. She nodded in appreciation. She wasn't used to drinking red wine, but she could tell it was a good one. She let it warm her belly, smiling in appreciation before resuming her supper at a slower pace.

"Where are you from, Jane?"

"South Boston. My father's a sheriff, my little brother Frank will most likely follow in his steps, and my big brother Thomas is a criminal. How about that?" She looked up and laughed. Maura laughed back.

"I've always wanted to visit New York," the noblewoman said. "My father's a diplomat. I've traveled all over the world, just never to America."

"Is that how you've learned science?"

"Among other things, yes. Traveling so much made it hard to make friends, so I'd study a lot." Maura recited her life story like a well-rehearsed piece of theater.

"Any siblings?"

"No..." Maura hesitated for a second, then added "I'm adopted."

This time, Jane could tell it wasn't something Maura would usually confess. She looked up and paused, letting Maura decide whether to continue.

"I believe my real father was a criminal." She took a sip of wine.

"Are you embarrassed?"

"No. Not embarrassed. But I've always wondered if it's a trait I'd inherit."

"You seem perfectly well adjusted. I've seen a lot of criminals, ones that you wouldn't ever suspect, and I can tell you're not one."

"Even though I'm peculiar?"

Jane shrugged and smiled.

"It suits you. You're the mad scientist. It's... endearing."

Jane finished her bite, downed her glass of wine, and started clearing up the table. Maura got up and helped.

"I should go back to the boarding house. When do you think you'd be able to take a look at Thomas' jacket?"

"Tomorrow! First thing in the morning. Dr. Pike never shows up before 11 and everybody prefers we avoid crossing paths." Maura tilted her head. "Probably to spare his ego."

They headed back up the stairs.

"Where are you staying?"

"The boarding house on Orsett Street." Jane picked up her coat from the back of the chair. It was still damp, but warm.

"Stay with me. There's plenty of rooms here for guests."

"That's very kind of you, but I don't want to impose. The boarding house is perfectly fine." She thought of the cold, bleak room she had to share with a stranger, miles away in the dark. But she couldn't possibly accept the noblewoman's invitation, as much as she'd have loved to.

"It's late. It doesn't make sense for you to go back to the boarding house and meet me at the police station at dawn. We'll go together. I'll send someone in the morning for your luggage. You can stay as long as you want." Maura's tone didn't leave any room for discussion.

Jane could have hugged her on the spot. She relaxed and smiled instead.

"Thank you. I can't possibly repay you."

"Allow me the pleasure of your company. I don't have guests very often."

"All righty then."

Maura laughed at the Americanism. Then she looked down at Jane and lifted her nose in disgust.

"May I take this coat?"

Jane looked confused, and handed over the heavy coat. Maura lifted it by the shoulders, like it was infected with the plague, turned it around to make sure nothing was in it, and threw it in the fire.

"What the... Maura!" Jane watched her only coat starting to smoke and burn.

"We'll get you another one tomorrow. Off to bed!"

At a loss for words, Jane started to laugh, and Maura did too.

"And you'll have to sleep with me tonight, Mary will prepare your room tomorrow."

As incongruous as it was, the idea was much more appealing than sleeping with a stranger. Jane followed Maura to her room.


	3. Bed Talk

A quiet fire was burning in the chimney, casting dancing shadows across the room. A couple of gas lights supplemented the lighting, and Jane couldn't help but marvel at them. She had never seen any in a private house, only in public buildings.

Maura walked over to one of her dressers and pulled out two nightshirts. She turned off the lights, and they quickly changed in the flickering light of the fire. They crawled under the covers in the biggest bed Jane had ever seen. Jane paused briefly to see what side Maura would take before laying down on the left side.

Maura turned to Jane and propped her head on her hand.

"Why aren't you married?"

Jane brought up her ring free hand in front of her. She shrugged.

"I was engaged when I was twenty, but he joined the army and I never saw him again. I never found out if he was dead or if he met someone else... Well, I never tried really hard to find out... And I never fancied anyone else after, to my mother's despair. She's invited half of the men in Boston over for dinner, hoping to find me a husband."

Maura giggled and nodded slowly. Jane looked down at Maura's hand.

"What about you?"

"I think I scared off a lot of serious suitors. But I enjoy the company of men,... a couple of times a week..."

Jane's mouth fell open, and she laughed at Maura's scandalous admission. Maura just smiled and shrugged.

"I believe it wards off diseases and improves one's general disposition. Areyou still a virgin?"

Even after a couple of hours of interactions with Maura, Jane was still shocked at her lack of boundaries. Surprisingly, instead of putting her off, it made her feel more at ease.

"No. We didn't wait until the wedding. But I wouldn't say I'm experienced. Well, certainly not like you!"

"Do you find it repulsive?"

Jane pondered the question for a second, then nodded no.

"No, we should be able to do as we please, just like men. But I don't think I'd feel confident enough to do it, myself."

Maura tilted her head at Jane, thinking mysterious thoughts, then leaned forward to place a light kiss on her cheek.

"Good night, Jane. Tomorrow we'll see if we can help your brother. I'm glad you came to see me tonight. I enjoy your company."

"Thank you. I... I do as well."

Maura rolled over on her back, with her arms straight along her sides, and closed her eyes to go to sleep. Jane looked at her for a moment, still baffled by how quickly Maura had gained her trust, and finding herself irresistibly charmed by a stranger she had just met a couple of hours ago. With whom she was now sharing a bed. She rolled over to her side, her back to Maura.

For the first time in her life, she considered that perhaps, there was such a thing as fate.


	4. Maura saves the Day

Maura's carriage stopped in front of the police station at dawn. Jane got off first. She was wearing a discreetly elegant brown dress, with a light shawl over her shoulders. She turned to help Maura down. The driver went around and retrieved a large suitcase from the back, and he waited for Maura to step inside to follow with it.

The officer standing at the reception immediately came to greet them.

"Lady Isles! Have we sent for you? I wasn't informed. Let me get..."

"At ease, Officer. Nobody sent for me, but I have a favor to ask. Is Detective Korsak in?"

"Yes, my Lady. Let me take you to his office."

"Oh, no need officer, I know where he's at. Thank you."

Maura started walking, Jane and the driver in tow with her suitcase. She turned a couple of corners, and paused in front of an open door. She knocked gently on the doorframe.

"Lady Isles! I didn't know we'd sent for you! Please come in!"

"You didn't, Detective Korsak. Nobody called me. I'm here for a favor." She turned to Jane and put a hand on her arm. "This is my friend Jane Rizzoli. I understand her brother is accused of murder. I was wondering if I could take a look at the incriminating evidence."

"Oh! Thomas Rizzoli. I, um... I don't see why not. Dr. Pike determined it was the victim's blood on his jacket..." The older detective flinched, realizing it might not have been possible to do that, and that he was now talking to someone who would know better.

"Dr. Pike did no such thing. Dr. Pike told you what you wanted to hear. However, I can probably tell you if it is indeed blood on the jacket. Or if it isn't."

Korsak sighed and pulled a key chain from his desk drawer. He lead the small group down to the laboratory, and unlocked the door. Inside was a clutter of shelves, crates and bags containing weapons, clothes and everyday objects. In the corner, a few tools and bottles were laid out on a small table.

Lady Isles stepped in after the Detective, and her driver set the suitcase on the table. They seemed to have a routine. Detective Korsak rummaged through some crates, and finally came back with a dark colored, thick sailor jacket. It had seen better days. He set it on the table in front of Maura, and stepped back, holding his wide hands in front of him.

Maura unlatched her suitcase and opened it. Jane's eyes opened wide as the contents were finally revealed. A dozen small colored bottles containing liquids and powders, fine metal instruments and tools, beakers and saucers. It did look indeed like a witch's bag. Jane remembered Detective Frost's suspicious tone, and a smirk tugged at her lips.

The noblewoman picked up the jacket and lifted it up by the shoulders, not unlike the way she had picked up Jane's coat the previous night, before tossing it in the fire. She raised it to the window's light, and squinted to spot the few reddish brown stains on the front of the lapel. She brought it close to her face and sniffed every spot she could find.

She rolled her eyes and pulled a bottle of clear liquid out of the suitcase. She dabbed the jacket with it, and with a clean rag, wiped against it. She checked the rag, and raised it in front of Detective Korsak, who made a face, expecting something disgusting.

"This isn't blood. It's red paint." She declared.

Jane exhaled in relief, and Detective Korsak shook his head.

"Are you sure, Lady Isles? I'm sorry, but I just want to make sure before we re-open the case."

"Blood is water-soluble. It would have stained this cloth. This is paint, oil-based and dry. If I understand correctly, Thomas Rizzoli is a sailor. This might be shipyard paint."

Korsak groaned and yanked the jacket from her. He smelled it, and threw it back in the crate where he had fished it out. He stopped abruptly and thought of something. He turned around and guided Maura to the door.

"Say, Lady Isles, since you're here, maybe you'd be so kind and look at a body for us. It's in the mortuary."

The coach driver packed the suitcase again and Jane followed, her heart racing, trying not to believe in Thomas' innocence quite yet, and failing miserably.

They ended up in another room, and this one reeked of death. It was a few degrees cooler, but not by much. Three bodies were laying on tiled slabs, covered by stained sheets.

The Detective stepped up to the middle slab, and looked at Jane hesitantly, then at Maura.

"Jane, you've seen dead bodies before, right?"

"Yes, plenty. Go ahead."

Korsak pulled the sheet down. The woman was in her middle years, and the first thing they noticed was the large cut across her throat. Maura seemed unaffected, but Jane brought a hand to her mouth and wrinkled her nose.

"Mary Nichols. She was found two days ago in the East End. Nobody saw anything, we have no leads."

"A prostitute, I assume?" Maura approached the body, and pulled the sheet lower, exposing her bare, pale skin. "She's been washed. Where are her clothes?"

Korsak dropped his head and sighed. "She's been washed by mistake. And the clothes discarded."

Maura briefly glanced up at him, and touched the neck wound with two fingers. It was deep, and gaping.

"At least she died quickly." She continued examining down the body, and pressed on a gash near the abdomen. Surprised, she pressed harder, and slipped a finger along the cut, She pushed deeper, and pulled the skin back.

"Her bowels are missing. Did Dr. Pike remove them?"

The Detective's eyes widened in horror, and he reluctantly approached the body.

"No... He... He didn't mention anything about her... bowels. Just the gashes. In her belly..." He stammered, his face now as pale as the body on the slab.

Just then, Detective Frost stepped into the room.

"Lady Isles! I heard you're..." He looked at the noblewoman, her hand still inside the victim's abdomen. His face fell, his hand shot up to his mouth, and he ran off into the hallway. Jane took off after him.

Maura and Korsak shrugged, both used to Frost's sensitive nature.

"This is the third prostitute murder in Whitechapel this summer."

"So I hear..."

"How would you know? No offense, but it shouldn't be any of your concern, and we've been discreet."

"I heard it down at the infirmary, where I volunteer."

"Oh, of course. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply you didn't care."

"No offense taken, Detective." She covered the body and headed to the large sink in the corner of the room. She washed her hands thoroughly. "Well, in the absence of clothing and other body evidence, I'm afraid I'm not able to tell you much. In the light of the disembowelment, though, I would say that this killer harbors some resentment towards women..." She pondered the next thought for a second. "But it's not personal."

"Oh? Is that so?"

"It's a crude psychological profile, but I'd stand by it."

"I'll tell the other detectives. Thank you Lady Isles."

"No, thank you Detective Korsak. I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help on this case, but I'm glad I was able to help Mr. Rizzoli."

"Ah, yes. I'll re-open the case. And I'll talk to Dr. Pike about the reddish-brown stains."

Jane caught up with Detective Frost in the hallway where they had met the night before. He stopped gagging and finally regained his composure.

"Hello again, Detective."

"I'm sorry, Miss Rizzoli, I just can't get used to the sight of blood."

"Don't worry about it. Hey, do you think I can talk to my brother again? Lady Isles said the "blood" on his jacket was in fact shipyard paint. I recall him saying that he was on a boat with several men, not just the victim. I need to know who else was with them."

"Oh, we know that. He reported the crime."

Jane frowned and tilted her head at him. He looked back at her, confused, then slapped his forehead.

Korsak knocked on the door of the small apartment. Behind him stood Frost and Jane. A woman in her fifties opened the door, just enough to see who it was. Detective Frost pushed the door open.

"This is the police, Miss. Is your husband home?"

They heard a clatter in the back of the room, and a thud. Jane lifted her dress up and bolted down the stairs. She cursed under her breath when she heard a rip in the fabric, but she didn't slow down. She emerged in the bright, busy street below.

She looked left and right, and spotted someone running out from a side alley into the main avenue. She took off after him, bumping into a few people in her way. She quickly caught up and managed to grab onto his shirt, pulling him to the side. He lost his balance and fell down heavily, his puffy face hitting the cobblestones. Jane was on top of him in a second, twisting his hand behind his back in a painful hold.

"Get up! Get up!" She guided him onto his feet, just as Frost showed up.

"He wouldn't pay up the money he owed us! We won it fair and square!" The old sailor was spitting through his missing teeth.

"You framed my brother!" Jane growled.

"Bah! The American. He's the one who won all the money. That'll teach him." He spat on the ground.

Frost grabbed his arm and walked him back towards his house.

Still catching her breath, Jane walked back with them. She pulled her dress around to see the damage. It was ripped at the seam around the waist.

Frost smirked. "Sorry, Miss. Nice catch, by the way. If you want to meet us at the station, we can release your brother now."

Jane smiled and nodded. "Thank you Detective, I really appreciate your help. If you hadn't sent me to..."

Frost brought a finger to his lips and winked at her. "Don't mention it, please. I'm happy we found the real killer."

Jane gave him a squeeze on the shoulder and headed down the street where Maura's carriage was waiting.


	5. Trousers!

Mary opened the door when she heard the coach return to the property. Maura, Jane and Tommy stepped in, and the driver, whose name was George, Jane had found out, followed with Maura's suitcase.

"Mary, could you please prepare another room for Thomas?"

"Yes, Lady Isles. Miss Rizzoli's suitcase is here."

"Perfect. Have George carry it up to her room. Is Jean-Pierre here? We're starving!"

It was late-afternoon already, having spent the morning at the police station, apprehending the culprit and back to the police station to pick up a very grateful Thomas.

"Thomas, please make yourself comfortable, Mary will show you around. Jane, let's get you out of this dress and we'll see if I have something more appropriate for you."

She headed up the stairs with Jane in tow.

"I'm really sorry about the dress, Lady Isles..."

"Maura. Don't worry about it. You did good today. Detective Frost told me all about it, I'm sorry I missed it. It sounds like you're a tough one."

Jane chuckled. "I grew up with two brothers, I guess I don't know how else to be."

Maura walked into her room and closed the door behind them. She opened her armoire and flipped through her dresses. She sighed and closed it again. She faced Jane and took a good look at her, mentally taking her measurements.

"Stay here."

The noblewoman disappeared through a side door and left Jane standing there in her torn dress.

A few minutes later, Maura came back with a pair of black pants, a matching waistcoat, a white dress shirt with a ruffled collar and a scarf.

"Do you wear trousers back home?"

Jane smiled. "Most of the time."

"I thought so. The way you walk. And you're clearly not used to this type of dress."

"No, I'm not. But I appreciate you lending it to me, and I'm so sorry I ripped it open."

Maura dismissed the apology with a wave of her hand, and walked around to unlace her in the back, sliding the sleeves over Jane's shoulders. Maura's soft hands grazed the olive skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake. Jane dropped her head forward and closed her eyes, confused by her involuntary reaction. Her heart was racing, and she bit her lip to calm her nerves.

Maura slipped everything down, and Jane stepped to the side. The Lady gathered the dress over her arm and looked up at Jane.

"I'll have Mary sew this back together. I think you'll find the trousers a lot more comfortable." She looked at Jane in her chemise, and smiled at her. "You will look very handsome. Go ahead and change, I'll see you in the dining room."

Jane pulled her chemise over her head, leaving her in her corset and drawers. She picked up the dark trousers from the bed and held them in front of her. Their texture was almost silky, Jane had never seen such fine garments.

The door suddenly opened and Maura popped her head though.

"Oh, and we should take a bath tonight."

Jane laughed, and simply nodded. Maura closed the door again.

Again, Jane marveled at the comfortable intimacy her and Maura seemed to have developed in the matter of a single day. Now that her brother was free, she wondered when she'd have to go home, leaving her new friend behind. An unpleasant melancholy washed over her as she stepped into the trousers.

Fifteen minutes later, Maura knocked on the door. Jane was slipping her boots back on, sitting on the corner chair. She stood up and Maura stepped in the room. The noblewoman picked up the scarf from the bed and slid it around Jane's neck, tying it in a loose knot.

She stepped back and look at Jane.

"You look stunning."

Jane grinned and bowed at the waist, a hand on her chest.

"Thank you, my Lady."

Maura extended her hand in front of her, and Jane took it. The American woman tentatively brought it to her lips. She inhaled the soft scent of soap and expensive perfume. Maura moved forward, and placed her other hand on Jane's hip. Their eyes met, and Jane lowered their hands, without letting go. Maura was a couple of inches shorter than her.

They stood in silence for a few seconds.

"Will you stay in London a while longer?" Maura whispered, almost shy.

Jane sighed in relief and pinched her lips. Maura seemed just as sad as she was at the idea of parting so soon.

"Yes." Jane's voice was a low rasp. "If you'll have me."

Maura squeezed her hand and smiled. "Thank you."

"Thank you." Jane answered back, breathless. They smiled at each other and laughed softly, both feeling giddy over their budding friendship.

Jane offered her arm, and Maura wrapped her hand over it. They left the room and walked down the stairs together.

Tommy was waiting at the bottom, and his face lit up when he saw Maura.

"Lady Isles! You look radiant!" He offered his arm and winked at Jane, who reluctantly stepped aside to hand off Maura to her brother.

"I cannot tell you enough how grateful I am for all your help. You saved my life." Thomas continued, leading them into the dining room. He was wearing a nice dinner jacket, no doubt provided by Maura as well. Jane felt a pang of jealousy creep up and flush her face.


	6. Dinner with Tommy

Thomas pushed Maura's chair in and sat across from her. Jane sat next to Maura, and Maura gave her a polite smile.

"Maura,... may I call you Maura?" Tommy started.

Maura nodded.

"You are an amazing woman, Maura. I must say I wouldn't have expected such acuity from someone of your sex. You're very special."

Jane groaned and rolled her eyes. Maura reached under the table and laid a hand on her knee, in a silent plea to stay calm.

"Thank you Thomas. I wish other people would see through the gender barrier and trust us more, others might benefit from it."

"Well, I guess it can't be helped. Surely you're an exception."

"Hey Tommy, so how was the London jail compared to Boston's?"

Tommy shot her a hostile glare, and was saved when the chef came in with the soup. They ate and commented on the merits of French cuisine. Jean-Pierre had been with Maura for the last five years, and she had discovered a whole new culinary world with him.

The next course, a roasted quail, elicited much praise. Jane felt herself relax as she started her second glass of wine. She loved looking at Maura's face when she was talking, even though she wasn't paying attention to what she was saying. Tommy was clearly pretending to understand Maura's elaborate theories on fluid mechanics, nodding periodically, his gaze drawn to Maura's chest. Jane caught him staring and again, her face flushed with anger.

Before finishing her course, Jane abruptly stood up.

"I'm sorry, I need to excuse myself. I'm... not feeling well."

Maura looked up at her with concern, and started getting up as well. Jane put a hand on her arm.

"No, please enjoy dinner. I'll just be in my room." She caught Maura's worried eyes, and guilt churned her stomach. "I'm sorry."

Maura slowly sat back down. She watched Jane leave the room.

"It's just as well. I was hoping to spend some time with you. Alone." Thomas said dismissively.

"Oh. Of course." The room suddenly felt cold and empty to her, but she knew how to entertain. The noblewoman put on her best hostess face. She stayed and conversed with Thomas. She had to admit he was handsome, and had a boyish charm about him. After supper, they retired to the library, where they had an after dinner drink.

Halfway through her glass, Maura got up.

"I should go check on Jane. She looked queasy."

Thomas stood up and stepped in front of her. "She's a big girl, she can take care of herself."

He placed a hand on her waist. "You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen."

Maura pressed her palm to his chest, and he dipped his head to kiss her.

Jane was pacing in her room. She had taken off the scarf and waistcoat. She finally laid down on the bed, not even bothering taking her boots off. She stared at the ceiling. Why was Tommy flirting with Maura bothering her so much? She wanted to believe Maura could see through his clumsy attempts at seducing her, but Maura didn't know him like Jane did. Tommy could be incredibly charming, getting women in bed and pushing them aside the next morning. He'd make promises he'd never keep, surprised to fall flat on his face after believing his own lies.

Jane liked Maura too much to let Tommy fool her, take advantage of her. Tommy probably wouldn't stop at breaking her heart, he'd take her money as well, disappearing without a trace after convincing her to help him out with some shady transaction. Jane felt like she had to protect Maura, keep her safe. She closed her eyes and slowly dozed off.

A soft knock on the door roused her awake. After a moment, just enough for Jane to think she was dreaming, the door opened slowly and Maura stepped in.

"Jane? Are you asleep?"

"I was... I fell asleep."

"...With your boots on."

"Oh, sorry." Jane sprang up and sat on the side of the bed. She got dizzy from getting up so fast and shook her head between her hands. She groaned.

"Jane, are you all right?" Maura sat next to her and put a hand on her back.

"Mmh, just got up too fast."

"Sorry, I knocked a few times, I was worried."

"I'm fine. I didn't mean to worry you. My... brother drives me crazy."

Maura smirked and nodded. " I can tell, and I can see why."

Jane's eyes widened. "What did he do?"

Maura laughed at Jane's reaction. "Oh, he just tried to kiss me."

"I'm going to kill him!"

"No need, I made it clear I'm not interested. Even though he's very handsome... and charming..." She looked at Jane. "It must run in the family."

Jane's heart clenched again, and she wondered how Maura could have such an effect on her. She desperately wanted to be her friend, and it seemed the feeling was mutual. The intensity of her need scared her.

Maura suddenly bounced off the bed. "I wanted to take a bath tonight! Come!"

She took Jane's hand and led her out though the hallway, to her bedroom, and into the bathroom. Jane spotted the bathtub, and the large cylinder affixed to its side.

"It's a gas heater. The water comes out hot!"

Maura turned the knobs and steaming water came out of the faucet. Jane watched in awe, thinking about the Rizzoli family routine of boiling the water on the stove and pouring it into the kitchen tub.

While the bath was filling up, Maura went back into her bedroom.

"Could you please come help me out of my corset?"

Jane's heart started racing at the thought of taking a bath with Maura. She turned around and joined the noblewoman.


	7. Bath Time

_**Lady Isles and Miss Rizzoli are back in action! Watch out! **_

Maura was standing with her back to Jane, waiting for the brunette to untie and loosen up her corset. Jane's usually deft fingers were shaking as she untied the laces. She pulled it out of the hooks, and freed Maura from its confines. Still in her combination, Maura turned around and stretched her back. She reached for Jane's scarf and released the knot. She unbuttoned the shirt, and slid it off Jane's shoulders. With the white shirt in her hands, Maura waited.

Jane couldn't move. Maura tilted her head and smiled. She finally walked around and relieved Jane out of her corset. She brought all their clothes over to a fabric hamper inside her armoire, and sorted them out. Some were to be worn again, some were to be washed.

The obvious routine Maura was going through dissipated Jane's nervousness, and reminded her of the baths she'd share with her mom. She made herself pull off her chemise, and she dropped her drawers. She piled them up by the door, reminding herself to pick them up when she left.

She smiled at Maura, who was taking off the rest of her clothes as well, and they walked together into the bathroom.

Maura let Jane step into the large tub first, and went in after her. They faced each other, side by side, and leaned back against the large tub. Jane closed her eyes and let her body relax into the warm water.

"Isn't this just perfect?" Maura whispered, almost to herself.

Jane hummed back her approval and lifted a knee up above the water. Maura opened a lazy eye and suddenly sat up with much water splashing.

"Oh, Jane! You're hurt!"

She reached over and took Jane's knee in her hands, careful not to touch the huge bruise that had bloomed over it.

Jane sat up and looked at it, frowning to figure out how she had gotten it.

"Oh, I think I might have hit the curb when I tackled the guy. It's just a bruise..."

Maura checked for swelling but quickly decided it was indeed just a bruise, and she leaned back against the tub. She tilted her head at Jane.

"You're a very strong woman."

Jane smirked. "I've tackled my brothers a few times..."

"No, I don't mean the tackling. Even though that's impressive in itself. I meant your character. You're smart, assertive, strong-willed."

Jane laughed. "So are you!"

"But I hide it! You're just... you! You're not polite about it."

"Why should I?"

Maura shrugged, the water bobbing against her chest, licking at the swell of her breasts. Jane's eyes briefly darted down, then came back up. Luckily, Maura was staring into the water, pondering Jane's question.

"I don't know. I guess we've been raised to avoid challenging men."

It was Jane's turn to shrug. "I see what you mean."

Maura suddenly smiled and reached for the soap dish.

"May I wash your back?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When they got out of the bath, Jane couldn't help but peek at Maura's back as she was drying herself with a towel. She admired the soft curves and feminine form of Maura's body. It contrasted sharply with her own lean, muscular frame. She felt awkward, catching herself repeatedly staring at Maura, but also found it strangely enjoyable.

Maura slipped on her night gown, and reached under the left bed pillow to pull out Jane's.

"Here's yours from last night."

After putting it on, Jane stood in the middle of the room, knowing she had been given her own room, but waiting for Maura to bid her goodnight before leaving.

Oblivious, Maura was sitting at the commode, brushing her hair. After a few seconds, she looked up, wondering what Jane was doing.

"I can help you with yours next..."

"I... I was going to do it in my room."

"Oh." Maura couldn't hide her disappointment. Again, Jane marveled at how open Maura was about her emotions, like a little kid. She thought about Maura's earlier comment, and wondered how Maura was able to hide her smarts, yet be so obvious with her feelings.

"I don't mind staying. I didn't want to assume you'd want me to."

Maura's lips stretched in a wide smile, and she nodded. "Please." She got up and guided Jane to the chair. "Here, your turn..."

As they both laid in the dark, side by side, they laughed about Jane ripping her dress, Tommy's incorrigible ways, and Detective's Frost sensitive nature. At some point, Maura ended up with her head tucked onto Jane's shoulder with her arm wrapped around her. Jane didn't remember it happening. They realized how that single day felt like it had lasted a whole week. Suddenly, Maura bolted up and gasped.

"What is it?"

"I want to go on a picnic tomorrow!" With that, she settled back down on Jane's shoulder.

"Do you ever _not_ get what you want?" Jane chuckled, her heart still pounding at Maura's outburst

She felt Maura shift to look up at her before speaking softly.

"I've never had a real friend like you..."

And even though Jane had had friends before, she knew what Maura meant. She turned her head and placed a kiss on Maura's forehead, thinking how great it would be to go on a picnic with Maura. Then she thought about Tommy and sighed.


	8. On a Picnic

Maura was already gone when Jane woke up. She gathered her clothes and stepped out to go get dressed in her room. As she turned the corner of the hallway, she practically rammed into Tommy.

"Jane! I just checked your room. Where were you?" He asked in a hushed tone.

Jane hesitated. "I... I fell asleep with Maura," she stammered, dreading her brother's reaction after Maura had rejected him the previous night.

Tommy squinted at her. He opened his mouth and closed it again.

"We're going on a picnic today! Wanna go?" Jane suddenly asked with wide grin.

"What? No!"

"Oh. Why not?" Jane cursed herself internally for asking. She was trying to hide her relief, and was now pushing her luck.

"That's what I wanted to tell you this morning. I'm taking the train to Liverpool and I'll try to get on a ship back to Boston. They're always looking for crew."

Jane bit her lip and resisted the urge to bounce up and down and clap. "Oh, okay," she simply said.

"Can I borrow money for the train ticket?"

Jane rolled her eyes. There was the Tommy she knew. She led him into her room, only half annoyed because it meant it'd be just Maura and her for the picnic, and for the rest of her stay, as long as Maura would have her.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

They rode in the carriage for a good fourty minutes just to get out of London, and then another thirty minutes until the dirt road they were on got really bumpy. The carriage stopped and George's face appeared through the little window in the front panel.

"My Lady, the road hasn't been maintained. I'm pretty sure this is the right path, but it seems it hasn't been used in a while."

"Keep going please. We're pretty close, right? Do you remember the gate?"

The older man smiled. "Yes Lady Isles, I remember. I'll find it." He closed the panel and the coach jerked forward again.

"George and Annie, my governess, used to take me here whenever we'd be back in London. I haven't been since I was... 17." She smiled at Jane and clutched her hands, silently praying they'd make it.

After a few minutes, the coach stopped again. They heard George grumble in frustration. He stepped down and came to the window on the side.

"My Lady, I'm afraid this is it."

Both women stepped out. A dead tree had fallen across the way, blocking it completely. It clearly had happened several years prior, judging by the tall grasses and decaying wood.

Maura contemplated the scene and looked down the road, squinting at the bright, hazy sky. She squinted harder as she spotted something. She climbed up the few steps to the driver's seat and looked again.

"I see the gate!"

"My Lady, I don't know if it's a good idea. Who knows if the bridge is still there."

"Jane and I will go. You can stay here with the carriage, Jean-Pierre packed you a lunch, didn't he?"

"Indeed. But I can't let you go alone. It's not right."

Jane stepped forward and put a hand on George's arm.

"I won't let anything happen to her, I promise."

George looked up at Jane and seemed to take in her height and posture. He nodded and went around the back to retrieve a large picnic basket. He handed it to Jane.

"I expect you'll be back in about three hours?"

"Yes, Sir," Jane acknowledged playfully, bringing two fingers to her temple in a mock salute. George offered a polite smile and watched as the women stepped over the tree and headed down the path.

Maura was wearing a nice, but casual dress, and Jane had opted for brown corduroy pants when Maura had offered them up. She'd had to cinch her belt pretty tight to keep them up, but they were a good fit for length, at least. She walked ahead of Maura, stepping over the deep grass that had taken over the narrow road. A hundred feet down the road, they got to the wooden gate Maura was talking about. It was weathered and cracked, the bottom overrun with weeds and grasses. Jane pushed it tentatively, but it didn't budge. She put the basket down on the ground and with both hands, she lifted the gate struggled to push it open just enough for them to squeeze though.

Maura handed her the basket and they marched through the abandoned field, grasshoppers and leaf bugs jumping ahead of their steps. They followed a creek for a hundred feet before coming to the remnants of a rock bridge. Maura made a face and sighed. The bridge had collapsed and the rocks were scattered in the water, leaving large gaps of clear water to be crossed.

"We can do it. The water's only a foot deep." Jane said optimistically, and sat down on the grassy edge to take off her boots. Standing back up, she rolled up her pants above the knee and picked up the basket again.

"Stay here, I'll come back for you."

"Be careful."

"Yes, I'll try not to get hurt by the water," Jane chuckled sarcastically. She looked back to make sure Maura knew if was a playful comment.

Maura smiled at her. She watched as Jane stepped on the nearest rock, and gracefully hopped her way to several other ones until she had to get in the water. She sank mid-calf and waded a few steps to the next rock, waded again and reached the other side. Jane set the basket down on the grass and made her way back to Maura.

"Do you want to take your shoes off?"

"I beg your pardon? Can't you carry me?"

Jane scoffed, but Maura was dead serious. Jane cleared her throat. "Oh. Very well... Uuh, can you step on the rocks and I'll carry you the rest of the way?"

"That sounds reasonable."

Jane stepped down into the water and Maura held on to her arm. She lifted her dress up and took a few steps on the rocks. When they reached the water, Jane took a deep breath and put a hand across Maura's back and under her knees.

"Ready?"

Maura hopped in her arms and Jane carefully carried her over, wincing as she struggled to find her footing into the pebbles of the river bed. With trembling arms and legs, she reached the other bank and practically dropped Maura on the grass. Her own feet still in the water, Jane propped her hands on her knees to catch her breath.

"I'm sorry Jane, I shouldn't have asked."

"It's... It's fine... Just give me a minute..."

Jane straightened up and picked up her shoes. Before she could reach for the basket, Maura grabbed it.

"I'll carry it. It's the least I can do."

Jane smiled and they carried on towards a grassy knoll. Maura frowned, trying to situate herself. As they approached the top, her face fell and she started running. When Jane caught up, Maura had stopped and was contemplating a large tree stump, cut a foot above the ground. A smaller tree next to it seemed to have grown from its roots.

"They cut Annie's tree..." she said softly.

"Your governess?"

Maura nodded and sighed. She set the basket down and pulled out a large blanket. She flapped it open and it floated down to the ground in front of them, next to the stump.

"This is where we'd set the blanket," she declared. She sat on her heels and methodically set the contents of the basket over the blanket.

Jane stood and observed, a smile at the corner of her mouth, realizing this was 12 years old Maura going through her picnic ritual.

When Maura looked up at Jane, tears had gathered in her bottom lids. Jane tilted her head and smiled. She kneeled in front of the blanket, not on it.

"Annie wasn't just my governess. She raised me. She was the mother my real... my adoptive... mother never was. She died eight years ago. I still miss her."

Jane nodded. "I'm sorry they cut her tree down." She pointed at the sapling next to it. "This one will grow in its place though."

Maura nodded and held her hand out. Jane shuffled onto the blanket across from her and sat cross-legged and barefoot.

"Let's eat! Roast chicken with potatoes and peas!"

Jane laughed. "That's way fancier than the picnics I'm used to."

"Oh? That's the only kind I know."

"Naturally. We, however, take our shoes off."

Maura hesitated for a couple of seconds, and plopped down on her butt. She turned and extended her legs in front of Jane.

"All right. Take them off."

Jane smirked and started unhooking the laces. She pulled both boots off along with the socks and set them on the grass next to the blanket. Maura wiggled her toes and giggled.

Jane laughed. "It's like you've never been barefoot outside!"

"I haven't!"

Jane's jaw dropped and she reached to tickle Maura's foot. "Wait until you walk on the grass!"

Maura scrunched her nose and pulled her knees to her body.

"You'll love it! I promise!"

"After we eat then."


	9. I Love You's

_**Thank you for the reviews, ladies. This story is NOT getting the attention my usual smutty stories get, so I need more reviews. MORE, MORE! Feed me! AU is HARD!**_

They ate the delicious meal Jean-Pierre had prepared for them in the spotty shade the small tree struggled to provide. The air was crisp though, and everything was about as perfect as they could have hoped.

"This is even better than what I remembered. Jean-Pierre is such a wonderful cook."

Jane groaned her approval through a big mouthful of peas and potato salad. She swallowed and wiped her mouth with the checkered napkin in her lap. She slowly slumped backwards and laid on her back right where she had been sitting, her hands joined behind her head as a pillow and her legs spread out, very un-lady-like.

"I'm so full I'm going to explode," she sighed.

"Oh, but there's still pie!"

"Oh my god, why didn't you tell me before I went for seconds?"

"You mean thirds? I'm sorry, I realize now I should have." With that, she pushed their plates and silverware aside and scooted over to lay down next to Jane, mimicking her position on her back, but with her legs together, and only one hand under her head. She wiggled her toes as a light breeze ruffled through the grass around them.

"You were right, this feels so good..."

Jane turned to Maura and they smiled at each other. Jane brought one hand down and wrapped it around Maura's, holding it between them. She turned her head back and closed her eyes again, giving Maura's hand a squeeze.

Maura looked up at the sky through the sparse tree leaves. She suddenly couldn't remember what Annie and her would do after finishing lunch. They'd probably just pack up and leave. This, laying down on the blanket, wiggling her toes to the wind, holding hands with her best friend, seemed almost magical. Even though, she reminded herself, there was no such thing as magic. A smiled tugged at the corner of her lips at the thought. She looked over at Jane again, only to find the brunette looking back at her.

"What?" she asked, in the same way she would if she had a piece of potato on her face.

"You're beautiful..."

Maura blushed furiously. "... Thank you."

Jane laughed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. You did the same to me when we first met."

"I did, didn't I?"

"You did. But I forgive you, it was dark and late at night."

"But I meant it!"

Jane winked at her. "Me too."

Maura wiggled her hand free and gently slapped Jane's forearm for the teasing. But just as fast, she threaded her fingers back together with Jane's.

They laid in comfortable silence, listening to the distant water, the birds and the insistant buzzing of insects.

"The next two days are my clinic days," Maura finally said softly. "It's in Whitechapel. Lots of bruises and cuts, colds, influenza, alcohol-related diseases and injuries."

"Sounds like fun!"

"Oh, would you like to come?"

"No! I'm kidding."

"Oh." Once again, it was hard for Maura to hide her feelings.

"Do you want me to come?" Jane offered.

"Not if you don't want to. I thought you might want to visit Detective Frost, see if they need some help at the Police Station."

"What a great idea! I like him."

"I think he likes you, too. Maybe you two would get along, if you see what I mean..."

"What? No!"

"There's nothing wrong with exploring possibilities. He's certainly handsome."

"He's twelve!"

"Jane, he can't possibly be twelve! In order to be a detective..."

"I know he's not twelve, but he might as well be. He's way too young for me."

"Ah, I see. And Detective Korsak..."

"Too old..."

"I can introduce you to one of my gentlemen..."

"Look, I'm just not interested."

"It'd improve your mood."

"What's wrong with my mood?"

"N... Nothing." Maura turned to Jane and gave her a wide grin. "How about dessert?"

Jane laughed and pushed herself up. She brought a fist to her mouth and belched loudly into it.

"Yeah, much better. Bring the pie!"

Jane had two slices of rhubarb pie, delighted at the newly discovered filling. Maura slowly enjoyed a single serving.

"How can you eat so much and still keep your figure?"

"Well, I'll tell you my secret, if you promise not to tell _anyone_," Jane said in a conspiratory tone. Maura raised an eyebrow. The American continued.

"I try to tackle a heavy, middle aged man at least once a week,..."

Maura scoffed. Jane lifted a finger up and gave Maura an impatient glare. "Wait... I'm not done. And I carry beautiful ladies across the river when they take me on a picnic." Jane finally chuckled. Maura reached over and placed a hand on her forearm.

"I'm sorry I made you carry me. I don't know what I was thinking. I'll cross by myself on the way back."

"How am I supposed to digest all the food you gave me then?"

"Don't worry, I'll come up with another way."

Jane frowned and smirked, not sure if Maura had meant to make a joke. Maura winked at her and got up, gathering up the dirty dishes and the empty bottle of apple cider. She dropped everything back in the basket, and waited for the stunned American to get up so she could fold the blanket.

Maura handed the basket to Jane to carry. She picked up her shoes and stood with her bare feet in the grass, looking down at them. She took a few steps forward and smiled up at Jane.

"This is wonderful!"

"Yes, it is. Just try not to step on a bee."

Maura shot her a worried look, and Jane shrugged. "I did once when I was 9."

The noblewoman smiled and imagined a young, defiant Jane, her wild hair in braids, running barefoot in the grass in the Boston countryside. She knew it probably wasn't accurate, it could have been anywhere, but she liked the image and stopped herself from asking about the details so she could hold on to it.

She grabbed Jane's free hand and they started walking down towards the river.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Oh my goodness, it's so cold!" Maura had only dipped the tip of her toe in the water, and immediately pulled it back up.

Jane laughed, and stepped in with both feet, without letting go of Maura's hand. "Come on, it's only a few steps." She tugged on Maura's arm, slowly pulling her in. Maura squealed as she lifted her dress up, taking cautious steps onto the rocky riverbed, trying to keep her balance.

"How did you ever carry me across with these rocks cutting into your feet?"

"I'll guess my feet are a little more callused than yours. But indeed, it did hurt, thank you for asking, my Lady."

They chuckled and slowly made their way to the other bank. Maura enthusiastically hopped onto the grass, bumping into Jane and practically knocking her over. The brunette twisted around and Maura wrapped her arms around her to avoid falling back into the water. They teetered back and forth for a second before Jane steadied them both by grabbing onto Maura's waist.

Their faces only inches apart, breathing hard from their recovery, they looked at each other intensely. Jane's eyes darted to Maura's lips, and she swallowed hard. She blinked and opened her eyes again, finding herself even closer to Maura's face. Neither of them made a move to break the embrace.

Maura lifted her head towards Jane, her eyes dark and pleading. Her chest heaving against Jane, she waited, her feet, the water, the rocks and grass forgotten. She lifted a hand up to cup Jane's cheek, slowly smoothing her thumb over the olive skin.

Jane closed her eyes and leaned into her touch. She sighed and pulled Maura into a tight hug, afraid she'd succumb to the urge to kiss her friend. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath into Maura's hair, feeling her stomach clench at the intoxicating smell. She felt the smaller woman tighten her embrace.

"I love you." Maura murmured into her neck.

Jane nuzzled into the blonde hair. "I love you too."

After long seconds, they pulled apart and Jane stepped back from the river bank, pulling Maura up with her.

"Let's go. George is waiting."

"But I love you!"

They laughed. "I know! I love you too. Let's go!"


	10. Clinic Day and a Telegram

Maura wiped the hair off her forehead with the back of her hand. She adjusted the sling and slipped it around the man's head, cradling his broken arm inside it. She knew he would probably lose the sling within the next few hours, as soon as he'd be drunk enough to numb the pain. She hoped he'd at least keep the brace for a few days. She could only do so much for them.

After the man left, she went to wash her hands in the large basin they all shared. She wiped them dry on her apron, and looked around the tiled room. Three out of the five cots were occupied, and the two nurses were tending to the patients. The young male doctor was sitting in the corner, looking haggard. Maura tilted her head at him with a smile of encouragement. It was already dark outside and it was almost time for them to go.

A middle-aged woman stepped in from outside, and Maura looked up at her.

"Mrs. Kelly!"

"Kate! Call me Kate!", Mrs. Kelly protested.

"Only if you call me Maura."

"You know I can't do that, Lady Isles. That'd be disrespectful."

The Noblewoman gave her a sympathetic smile. "Is it your back again?", she asked, noting Kate's posture.

"Ah, you got that right. It's killing me again." She lowered herself on a cot.

"Let me get you a warm compress." Maura disappeared in the back room, and came back with a steaming white cloth. Kate lifted up her coat and shirt, and Maura applied the compress to her lower back. Looking towards the entrance, the Noblewoman spotted Jane in the doorframe. She grabbed Kate's hand and pressed it against the warm cloth. "Here, hold it there for a minute. I'll be right back."

Kate just grunted and adjusted her position on the cot.

Jane saw Maura walking towards her from the back of the room. The Englishwoman had her hair up in a loose bun, her eyes tired but bright and happy at the sight of Jane. They smiled at each other. Jane marveled once again at how beautiful Maura was.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to distract you. I didn't know if you'd still be here."

"I just need a minute. Here, come help me." Maura guided Jane through the room and stopped in front of Kate's cot.

"Mrs. Kelly, this is my friend Jane Rizzoli."

Kate looked up at Jane. "Hello Miss Rizzoli. Pardon my manners, I can't get up at the moment. My back is busy."

"Jane, could you hold the compress for Mrs. Kelly? I'll go clean up and we can go. George should be here any minute. By the way, what are you doing in Whitechapel?" Maura asked from the backroom.

"Oh, er,..." Jane looked around, not sure if she should be yelling her business across the room. "I was helping... Mr. Frost... with his research."

"Oh, how very nice of you." Maura yelled back from the backroom.

"I know a Mr. Frost," Kate mumbled from against the wall. He's a police Detective..."

Jane grunted. She pushed on the compress a little harder and leaned over to whisper to Kate. "Would you also know a character who goes by the name of Leather Apron, by any chance?"

Kate hesitated. "Why would you want to know?"

"He might know something about the... murders."

"I don't know how to find him. But I've heard some people call him Pizer."

Maura came back in with another nurse. Jane got up and the nurse took over with the compress.

"Thank you Mrs. Kelly," Jane said as Maura led them out. "That's more than we learned all day."

Kate grunted and shifted to a more comfortable position.

The two friends left the building as George stopped the carriage in front of them. He stepped down to let them in and they took off in a loud clatter against the rough cobblestone.

"How was your day?" the American finally asked after they had left the busiest area.

Maura looked over at Jane and took her hand, holding it between them on the seat. "Good. It's hard work, but I love it. It's the only thing that makes me feel like I'm really helping."

"Oh? What about you helping the police?"

"Well, I can sometimes speak for the dead and help solve the murders, but unfortunately, I come in too late to really make a difference in their life..."

"What about you? I assume they found you something to do, since you were out in Whitechapel with Detective Frost."

"They did. We went through all the detective's notes about that prostitute's murder. I guess a lot of them mentioned a man they call 'Leather Apron', who's been extorting money from them. And your friend just gave me a name."

"Mmh, if money is what he's after, I don't know that it'd make sense for him to start killing them."

Jane shrugged. "That's what I would say, too. But Detective Korsak wants to follow up on the lead."

"Oh, and how about Detective Frost? How was it spending the day with him?"

"It was... fine." Jane chuckled.

"And...?"

"And nothing! I like him, but he's like a little brother. He's very smart. He's a good detective. We went though the notes together and talked to a lot of people. Tomorrow I'll have to talk to him about what Mrs. Kelly told me."

"I hope you won't need to talk to her again soon. I know she usually leaves London this time of the year to go hop picking. I was surprised to see her tonight. Her back must have been bad."

"Mmh, hopefully his name will be enough."

As the coach came to a stop in front of Maura's mansion, Mary came running out to meet them. She was holding a small piece of paper and handed it over to Maura as soon as she stepped down.

"My Lady! The Orsett street boarding house sent over this telegram for Miss Rizzoli!"

Jane's eyes went wide and Maura gave her the note. They hurried inside and Jane unfolded the telegram in the light of the entrance hall. She frowned and bit her lip.

"It's my Ma. It sounds like something happened with my father. I... I have to go home."

She looked at Maura, and let out the breath she was holding. She didn't say anything and just stared for a few seconds, letting her own words sink in.

The noblewoman slowly turned to George and spoke calmly. "I know there's a train in the morning to Liverpool. Could you inquire about the next ship to New York or Boston?"

"Yes My Lady." George went back out and took off in the carriage.

"Jane, let's go eat something. There's nothing we can do right now, and I'm starving." She headed down towards the dining room.

Jane nodded, and stuffed the telegram in her pocket.

Dinner was mostly silent, both women absorbed in their thoughts. They went up to Maura's room and took a bath. Jane lingered in the warm water long after Maura, and basked in the luxurious tub, knowing it might be the last time she'd get to enjoy it. Maura was already in bed when she came out. The noblewoman had her back to Jane, which was unusual. Jane turned off the light and slipped under the covers. She knew Maura wasn't asleep. Laying on her side towards her, she stroked Maura's hair.

"Maura?"

Maura didn't respond, but she grabbed Jane's hand and brought it down around her own waist. Jane shuffled closer and spooned her, holding her close. Jane nuzzled into her hair.

"I'm sorry... I wish I could stay." Her chest tightened as the words passed her lips, and she inhaled sharply to hold back her tears.

Maura gripped her hand harder. She slowly turned around to face Jane. The American could see the moonlit tears on her face.

"Don't cry please, you'll make me cry too." Jane brushed her thumb on Maura's wet cheek.

Maura looked up at her.

"By the river," she said softly, "I would have kissed you back..."

Jane nodded slowly and closed her eyes. She felt Maura's hand on her cheek, and when she looked again, Maura had closed the distance between them, her sweet breath causing Jane's mouth to fall open for air. She swallowed and closed her eyes again.

Maura pushed forward and pressed her lips to Jane's. They both stopped moving, until finally, Jane started kissing her back, slowly, tenderly, like she'd wanted to do ever since she'd met the noblewoman.

_**Oooh, you know Jane is leaving in the morning, so tonight's the night! **_


	11. Last Night Together

They kissed, side by side, for long minutes. Maura threaded her fingers in the dark curls of Jane's hair, pulling her in gently, as her lips explored Jane's for the first time. Her lips were soft and warm, parted just enough to allow her to nip at them. She didn't dare push in further, afraid Jane would pull back. Her growing desire was betrayed by her body when her hips tilted forward, seeking more contact with Jane's long frame. Rocking slowly back and forth, she wedged her leg between Jane's knees, and felt the brunette press forward against her.

Maura's hand roamed along Jane's arm and grasped at her waist, following the curve of her hip over the thin fabric of the night shirt. She felt Jane shiver under her touch, and her hips started rocking in unison with her own.

The sound of their heavy breathing and wet kisses filled the dark bedroom.

Maura slowly eased Jane onto her back, settling on top of her. She kissed a trail along her jaw, down into her neck. Jane gasped when Maura opened her mouth and pressed her tongue and lips to her pulse point. The noblewoman sucked on Jane's neck, tasting the soft skin, craving for more. She licked back up behind her ear, leaving Jane panting through her open mouth. Maura wished they had left the light on, so she could see Jane, look into her eyes, see what she was doing to her.

Jane's eyes were shut, and she was gasping for air as Maura was kissing her neck. Her body was on fire, her hands wandering over Maura's back and hips, pulling her closer. Her hips were tilted up into the blonde, desperately seeking more contact. The vague unease she had felt when Maura had first kissed her had quickly evaporated, and she realized this was how it should feel, to be in love. They were about to make love. She opened her eyes briefly at the thought. Maura's face hovered above hers in the dark, her features outlined in the pale moonlight. Jane swallowed hard and guided Maura with her as she sat up with the blonde straddling her lap.

They quietly reveled in the embrace, their faces almost touching, their breath mingling between them.

Then Jane grabbed the bottom of Maura's nightshirt and pulled it up slowly. Maura shifted her weight to loosen it up and raised her arms as Jane slipped the garment off over her head. Maura helped Jane with hers, and they wrapped their arms around each other again, basking in the feeling of their warm, bare skin touching.

Without breaking the embrace, Jane laid down on her back again.

"Show me...", she rasped, ready but shy.

Maura smiled in the dark. "I love your voice. It's is so... sensual..."

She dipped down and covered her chest and neck with kisses again, inhaling Jane's fragrant skin, so warm and soft under her lips. She trailed back up and kissed Jane's lips, using the tip of her tongue to tease them apart. The brunette finally opened her mouth and granted her access, her tongue meeting Maura's for the first time. Jane moaned at the wet contact, slowly pushing in further in a languid dance. She brought a hand up to the back of Maura's head and pulled her in to deepen the kiss, her whole body tilting up into her.

Jane felt a burning surge in her core, a need she had never felt before. She groaned in frustration, aching to be touched.

Sensing Jane's need, Maura pushed Jane's legs apart with a firm hand. She trailed her fingers along the curve of a hip, dipping down to her inner thigh at a tortuously slow pace. To make up for it, she lowered her head and covered Jane's nipple with her mouth, sucking gently on the hard nub. Jane groaned in pleasure and fisted her hand in her hair. Maura switched to the other breast, as her hand inched closer to its goal between Jane's parted thighs.

Jane's mouth had fallen open, but she had stopped breathing in anticipation. Her mind was split between Maura's mouth on her nipples and the progress of her hand towards her sex. Both were electrifying, but she suspected there was more to come. Her flesh prickled with need, and she couldn't help but bob her hips up and down against Maura's hand, begging silently for relief.

Jane started panting when she felt Maura on her curls. She bit her lower lip and held on tightly to Maura. Deft fingers ran along her drenched slit, parting her nether lips. Flat and straight along her folds, they swirled around in slow circles, eliciting jolts of pleasure every time they grazed over her clit.

Jane moaned helplessly, the pleasure creeping up her stomach, into her throat as Maura intensified the pressure.

"Oh Maura, Maura,... Maura... oh my god..."

Maura bit down on her neck and sucked with her tongue and lips, breathing hard through her nose, her eyes squeezed shut in empathy with Jane's pleasure. She felt around Jane's opening, making sure she was ready and open, and slowly pushed two fingers inside and up.

They both stopped moving. They held their breath for a few seconds, Jane's hips tilted impossibly high, taking in the blissful sensation of Maura's fingers inside of her, filling her up.

Maura started moving her fingers in and out, slowly at first, adding a third one in time. She went down for a deep kiss, swallowing Jane's urgent whimpers in her mouth. She started using her hips against Jane, thrusting faster and harder, pushing Jane closer and closer to the edge. Jane spread her legs wider, thrusting in counterpoint.

Urgent moans poured out into the room, the bed frame creaking in rhythm to their love making.

Maura suddenly shifted to straddle Jane's thigh. She frantically gasped at Jane's hand and pushed it against her core.

"Jane, please... Touch me, I need you. I want to feel you inside..."

Barely thinking, Jane slipped three fingers inside Maura's opening, and she grunted in delight at the warm, velvety texture. Maura lowered herself down on her thigh, trapping Jane's fingers inside, and resumed her thrusts, driving them both towards an impending orgasm.

"Oh Jane, you feel so good..." Maura felt herself rapidly coming undone.

Jane felt a surge radiating from her core, but was hesitant to give in. As much as her body craved it, the intensity scared her.

"Maura," she panted, "Maura... It's too much..." Her voice cracked and she took a deep breath as tears welled up in her eyes.

"Oh Jane, come with me... Let go. Come with me..." Maura's body tensed up and her voice dropped to a whisper. "Oh Jane, I love you..."

Jane heart clenched hard at Maura's words, and she closed her eyes, sending a tear rolling down her cheek into her ear. She relaxed and the orgasm immediately reared up, emanating from her core and exploding into a million stars behind her eyelids. Her body seized up and she cried out, unable to stop the whimpers from escaping her mouth. She could hear Maura's cries echoing hers as she rode every aftershock.

Maura slowly slumped down on top of Jane, their sweat mingling and cooling down after the storm. Maura planted lazy kisses on Jane's lips, nuzzling her cheeks and wiping her tears. Jane wrapped her arms around her and pulled her into a fierce embrace. She started crying again at the thought of having to leave.

"Oh Maura, I love you... I love you so much... I'll come back. I promise."

Maura's tears mixed up with hers as the noblewoman nodded against her cheek. They cried for a while, consoling each other with soft kisses and murmurs of love. Maura rolled off to the side, still enveloped in Jane's arms. They slept on and off, their anxious slumber interrupted by bursts of desperate kissing and lovemaking, followed by more crying.

A pale, cloudy morning cast its dim light into the room, revealing their red and tired eyes.

Jane packed up while Maura tended to her morning routine with the staff. George had a ticket for New York waiting for her at the breakfast table. They ate in silence, stolen glances conjuring fresh tears in they eyes.

Maura said her goodbyes by the carriage in front of the mansion. She couldn't bear to ride with Jane to the train station, and Jane wouldn't let her. Flanked by George and Mary, Jane didn't dare kiss Maura in front of them, but pulled her in a fierce hug instead. She managed to hold her tears back and turned to George.

"May I ride up front with you?"

George nodded. "Certainly, Miss Rizzoli."

She looked back at the noblewoman, detailing her every feature, committing her face to memory until she'd get to see her again. She saw Maura's eyes brimming with tears and had to look away. She took George's hand and he hoisted her up. Without looking back, she held on to her seat as the carriage took off.

Jane filled her eyes with London as they rode through the city. She had only spent a total of four days in the British capital, but she felt privileged to have had the chance to experience it in such a different light than most visitors. She promised herself she'd be back as soon as she could. The thought of Maura made her sigh.

"I've never seen Lady Isles so smitten with anyone before."

Jane turned to George. She didn't quite know how to answer. She let him continue.

"She's been alone her whole life. When Annie passed, I thought she'd die of grief. But she's strong. Much stronger than anyone I know."

Jane nodded.

"She never expects much from anyone, but I hope you come back. For her."

Jane wiped off her cheek and nodded again. She was amazed she still had tears left in her.

"I'll come back. I promised her."

George stopped in front of the train station and carried her suitcase to her wagon. Jane realized all her tickets were in first class. She smiled to herself. She hugged a reluctant George before he could leave.

"Thank you..." She whispered to him.

George hugged her back. "You're welcome, Miss Rizzoli. I'm looking forward to your return."

"Me too."

Later that day, upon boarding the ship, Jane opened her suitcase and had a moment of panic when she didn't recognize the contents. She lifted the brand new wool coat up in front of her. It was close in color to her old one, but that's where the comparison ended. This one was lined in silk, the fine wool sewn in a perfect cut, not masculine but not too feminine either. The buttons were elegant but discreet. One of the pockets had a small bulge and she reached inside. She pulled out a thin cotton handkerchief with the initials M.I. embroidered in the corner. Jane brought it to her face and inhaled its scent.

The fog horn drowned the sound of her sobs as the ship commenced its six days journey to New York.


	12. Jane's Letter

Dear Maura,

I've been back in Boston for two days already and I'm sorry I haven't had the time to write you sooner. It's been a hectic return home. My father hasn't been shot or otherwise hurt in his sheriff's duty. I almost wish it was the case.

Instead, he met a woman and ran off with her, leaving my mother and the rest of the family behind. She can't be older than 28. Everybody's in shock.

My mother is devastated, and my brother Frankie and I are doing our best to support her. Tommy didn't even show up until last night. He confessed he's the one who introduced the woman to Pop. I don't think I've ever been so mad at him, except maybe when he tried to kiss you.

I realized I forgot to inform Detective Frost about the name Kate told me for Leather Apron. Pizer. Maybe you can relay it for me, if you haven't already.

I wish you could avoid visiting Whitechapel, until they catch that monster. I know how much you enjoy helping out at the infirmary, and if you can't stay away, make sure George picks you up before dark. He cares about you very much, and he'd agree with me.

I miss you terribly, and being back here is so strange. I know it wasn't all a dream, but it feels like it. My heart still aches thinking about you, and I still cry at night, wishing I was with you, holding you in my arms.

I feel so lucky that, by some odd twist of fate, our paths crossed and that we connected so quickly. You are the one I've been looking for my whole life. I cannot imagine my life without you in it. I hope you can wait for me, and that you can trust my promise to you. I don't want any of your gentlemen touching you while I'm away.

The coat you gave me is the finest piece of clothing I've ever owned, and the cut fits me perfectly. I won't ever be able to thank you enough for it. Finding it in my suitcase as I boarded the ship brought tears to my eyes. You're the most caring, generous person I've ever met and I feel privileged to have gotten to know you.

I'm holding the handkerchief you surprised me with in my hand as I write you, and am forever grateful for your love and friendship.

I promised you to come back and I intend to keep my promise. Until then, know that you will be in my every thought and you are not alone.

With all my love,

Jane


	13. Maura's Letter

My dearest Jane,

Words are quite inadequate to describe the joy I felt upon receiving your letter today, so much so indeed, that I read it six times over and kissed your sweet name on the page, before I found myself calmed sufficiently to be able to sit and write this reply.

Jane, before writing more I need to set your mind at rest and alleviate your anxiety concerning my so-called 'gentlemen'.

Please, I beg you, dismiss them entirely from your thoughts, as have I. Each of them has already received a brief note imparting the information that I no longer wish to pursue any kind of 'friendship'. By 'friendship' I know that you will understand that I refer to the physical liaisons in which I was engaged at the time we met. When I told you about the nature of my friendship with those 'gentlemen' I could see in your eyes that, despite your smile and your assurances to the contrary, you did, in fact, find my conduct somewhat unsavoury. It bothered me terribly, and I had written and sent the notes referred to above even before you received the telegram that took you back to Boston. The thought of you fretting over this matter makes me unhappy but please put it from your mind.

After the magical night we spent together before you had to leave, the thought of being touched by anyone but you is anathema to me. Please know that, for as long as you want it to be so, the only hands ever to touch my body will be yours. I can see them now, Jane, in my mind's eye, I can feel them, and the thought of your beautiful hands with their long elegant fingers on me, inside me, causes me to tremble. This is partly in sweet remembrance of our time together and partly in fierce anticipation of your return to London and the welcome your hands will show me when we are, once again, alone with each other.

The first few days (and nights, oh sweet Jane, the nights…) after you left were melancholy indeed. My entire being was filled with sadness and an ineffable sense of loss. I think perhaps you would have been rather cross with me as I found myself wandering, like a wraith, from room to room. The house felt utterly empty without your vibrant American presence and sense of joie de vivre, and yet paradoxically, I could still feel you here. I could hear your footfall on the stair, I could hear your wonderful voice which I liken to the sound of shingle sucked back and forth by the sea and then drenched in honey and smoke. Such a voice I have never heard in my life; the memory of it, just the mere thought of your voice causes me to become wet for you, Jane. Oh dear, have I shocked you? Do I go too far? I recall your telling me of your surprise at what you called my 'lack of boundaries' and I take your word for that, as I have little knowledge or experience of such boundaries. I do hope that you do not consider my words to be inappropriate. But if you do, then I apologise to you with all my heart. My only excuse is that I feel so very close to you, I want to share everything with you. In the short time we have known each other I truly feel I may say anything and you will understand, and if necessary, forgive.

George and Mary have been very sweet and kind in their efforts to raise my spirits after you left, but I fear I disappointed them by my adamant refusal to go on another picnic. I could not do it, because it would have been a poignant and too-painful reminder of the lovely day we spent together, you and I. I can still sense your sweet breath on me when we embraced by the river.

I have a confession which I know will cause you to chuckle at my silliness – I keep your nightshirt under your pillow and, every night when I get into bed I draw it out and press my face into it to remind me of you. I fear the essence of you is already beginning to fade from the fabric and I dread the day I can no longer have the comfort of the scent of you in my bed.

Before moving on to other topics, I am pleased to tell you that, as regards to the man known as Leather Apron, I did indeed make mention of him to Detective Frost. The information given to you by Mrs Kelly at the Infirmary was correct and the man, John Pizer by name, was duly apprehended by the Whitechapel Constabulary and incarcerated whist enquiries were made about him. It transpires that Pizer, poor man, is quite innocent of any wrongdoing and has been exonerated and released by the police.

I must tell you also that there has been another murder in Whitechapel. I have no means of knowing whether this news has yet been published in the American press, but in the event it has not, I will tell you that the unfortunate woman's name was Annie Chapman and her body was discovered early on the morning of Saturday 8th September in the back yard of a lodging house at 29 Hanbury Street in Spitalfields. She was found at 6am by one of the tenants of the house, a Mr John Davis

As with Mary Ann ('Polly') Nichols, found in Buck's Row, Sergeant Korsak kindly allowed me to examine Annie Chapman's body in the morgue. Jane, the poor woman's injuries were truly horrific and I have never seen anything quite like it. I will spare you the details but of course, if you wish I will be more than glad to tell you about them in detail when you return to London.

My funny little Kate Kelly has been back to the Infirmary – her back as she puts it, being 'busy' again. She is such a cheerful, good-natured soul in spite of all the hardship she suffers. Whilst I was sitting with her, treating her back with the usual hot compress, we talked about the latest Whitechapel killing and Kate told me that Annie Chapman had been an acquaintance. I suspect they used to drink together in one of the public houses frequented by these 'ladies of the night' or 'ladies of easy virtue' or 'unfortunates' or any one of a hundred euphemisms coined by men. They are none of these things, Jane; Kate Kelly and Annie Chapman and the rest are prostitutes, ordinary women forced onto the streets to sell their bodies because they have fallen on hard times. I think it would be interesting to find out how many prostitutes per head of the population there are in Whitechapel.

Around the streets Kate told me, Mrs Chapman was known as 'Dark Annie', presumably because of her dark hair. She had, it seems, been very badly beaten in the days leading up to her death and, again according to Kate Kelly, was covered in bruises, poor creature. Indeed, when I examined her poor mutilated body, the bruises were still clearly visible.

Anyway, Kate tells me that she herself is off 'down hopping', which is Cockney for travelling down to Kent to pick hops. Hop-picking is a favourite September activity for many working-class Londoners, as it gets them out of the dirty old city and into the glorious countryside of Kent. (Did you know that the county of Kent is famous for fruit-growing? So much so that it is colloquially known as 'The Garden of England'. When you come back I shall despatch George to Covent Garden fruit and vegetable market to buy some Kentish strawberries in celebration of your return to me, and I shall feed them to you – in our bed. I promise you will never have tasted anything so heavenly.)

As regards hop-picking, I understand that there is a reasonable amount of money to be made, if one is prepared to work sufficient hours and to pick the required quota of hops. Incidentally, I believe it was the Romans who introduced hops into England, although please do not take that as 'Gospel' as they say, because I have not done any research on the subject. The breweries provide accommodation for the hop-pickers, although Kate Kelly tells me that, though adequate it would not be suitable for 'someone of quality such as yerself Milady. You're a toff and no mistake!' (Bless her heart, she will NOT call me Maura, despite my many requests for her to do so; she says it would be 'disrespectful' – well, you were at the Infirmary one day when she said it weren't you? My goodness, I cannot tell you how I despise this hidebound English class system of ours!) I take Kate's words to mean that the accommodations for the hop-pickers are pretty basic – tin huts and so on; no indoor lavatories etcetera.

I do hope Kate goes to Kent, as I think a few weeks in the open air and the sunshine will be so beneficial for her. Poor little woman, I find myself grown terribly fond of her, but I fear that the symptoms she describes for her 'busy back' are indicative of a rather sinister condition, the prognosis for which is anything but good. You might have noticed I do not like making guesses, but I fear our poor Kate has a condition of the kidneys known as Bright's Disease.

The symptoms of this condition were first described in 1827 by the English physician Richard Bright and I thought you may find it of interest to know that the following notable people also suffered from Bright's Disease. Forgive me, dear Jane, for I can already see your beautiful Italian eyes rolling heavenwards whilst you are reading this. I suppose you thought I did not notice your less than subtle eye movements when you decided I was talking too much of medical and scientific matters. And yes, I even heard you muttering "Encyclopaedia Britannica Mouth!" in that lovely gruff voice of yours, when you thought I couldn't hear you! I heard you, Jane Rizzoli, I heard you – and this, my darling, is your punishment:

Emily Dickinson – American poetess

Sir Alexander Mackenzie – Scottish Explorer. The first European to traverse North America

Chester A. Arthur – 21st President of the USA

Isambard Kingdom Brunel – English Civil Engineer (and one of my heroes)

David La'amea Kamanakapu'u Mahinulani Nalaiaehuokalani Lumialani Kalakaua – King of Hawaii

There, that wasn't so bad, was it? Just think, the next time someone asks: "I wonder what Emily Dickinson died of?" you will, quick as a flashbang, be able to supply the answer!

To return to more serious matters, I was able to attend the Inquest on Annie Chapman, thanks again to Sergeant Korsak. At the Inquest I was introduced to the policeman in charge of the Whitechapel murders, Inspector Frederick Abberline. He seems a very pleasant man, or at least he was very civil to me, although I could tell he was somewhat taken aback to learn that I am often called upon by Sergeant Korsak and Detective Frost to give my opinion on forensic matters in their Division of the Metropolitan Police. Inspector Abberline made some reference to Dr Pike and unfortunately, I was unable to catch Sergeant Korsak's reply, but I will tell you this my dear, Korsak's eye rolling was almost as amusing as yours!

It would appear that following the murder of Annie Chapman and the arrest and subsequent release of John Pizer (who is Jewish) the whole of Whitechapel is in a state of turmoil. Not only is there a deranged killer roaming the streets, free to murder at will, there are now accusations of anti-Semitism being levelled at the police and I must say, I can see the reasoning behind such accusations. As you know, Whitechapel and the whole of the East End of London is a huge melting-pot of cultures. Because of the proximity to the River Thames, which is tidal, ocean-going vessels from all round the globe are able to sail up the river to the great London docks. The area is teeming with a transient population comprising literally, all nationalities.

The East End has long been home to many, many Jewish people who fled (to your country and to mine) to escape the pogroms in Russia and Eastern Europe. How easy it is then, to blame the Jews. It has, I fear, been thus from time immemorial. Blame the Jews, they are such an easy target. And so dozens and dozens of Jewish men have been arrested or brought in for questioning by the police and, understandably enough, the Jews feel threatened, as indeed they are. My personal view is that the charges of anti-Semitism levelled at the authorities are quite justified. The knife-wielding maniac, whomever he may be, is certainly stirring up a veritable hornets' nest of civil unrest, as his crimes throw a spotlight upon the appalling living conditions in the East End. It is a deeply unpleasant atmosphere and I cannot help but think that, if these crimes were happening in, say, the West End of London instead of the East End, then the murderer would have been apprehended weeks ago.

Anyway, let us move away from the Whitechapel murders now. I wish I could have written 'and on to more pleasant things', but I read about your father's desertion of your mother with great sadness. This must be a dreadful time for you and I thank goodness that you have the love and support of your brother Frankie. He must be a great comfort to your mother, as indeed must you. Does your mother know that Tommy introduced the young woman to your father? I hardly know your brother Tommy (certainly not as well as he wanted!) but even on brief acquaintance I have to ask: what on earth was he thinking?

And I know you were furious with your brother for attempting to force his attentions upon me, but I feel I must shoulder some of the blame, because I should not have told you about it. I was perfectly able to let him know that he was not the Rizzoli upon whom I had my sights set. Oh goodness, have I done it again? Have I been inappropriate in what I have just written? If so, I offer you my apologies once again.

I feel I should tell you that if you truly did mean what you said and wrote, about coming back to me, then I will doubtless still be saying and doing inappropriate things when we are old and grey. Do you think you could bear that? Because I fear that life with me might routinely involve a number of my linguistic mishaps.

I was so pleased to read that you like your coat! I had a niggling concern that my action in burning the garment you arrived in was cavalier in the extreme. I feared you would think me haughty. Please believe I did not intend it to be so. I had the new coat made by an old established firm of bespoke tailors in Shoreditch. My father has used the firm for years as did his father before him. My father calls Mr Rosenthal his 'best-kept secret' because most gentlemen of my father's station in life, that is, the nobility, have their clothes made in Savile Row or Piccadilly and other illustrious addresses. The Lord Isles of Dorchester (my adoptive grandfather) however, was always something of an eccentric – and there are few things we English produce which afford so much pleasure as the eccentric, especially if said eccentric is a Peer of the Realm.

I cannot tell you how my grandfather discovered Messrs Rosenthal and Sons, but having done so he refused to patronise any other tailor for the rest of his life. My father has kept up the tradition, and I too, have had occasion to call on Mr Rosenthal who has made me the most beautiful riding outfits. I am expected to ride side-saddle and to please my mother I do, uncomfortable though it is. However Mr Rosenthal has also made me superbly fitting jodhpurs for when I wish to ride astride. It is frowned upon in the upper echelons but I adore it. I also adore you, which is why I persuaded Mr Rosenthal to make your coat in a fraction of the time he would normally take for a bespoke garment.

So, I have no wish or intention of putting any pressure whatsoever upon you, but do you have any thoughts at all on when (or if) you may be able to return to England? Of course I know that your family must and should take precedence over myself and I want you to know that I can be very patient. If you want me to, I will wait for you Jane, for ever, if need be.

Despite the rather extraordinary fact that you and I have spent only four days (and nights) together, I feel I know you, and I think you will be worrying that I will grow tired of waiting and go back to my former life. I can tell you now, Jane Rizzoli, that I fell in love with you from the first moment I saw you, when Mary answered the front door to the unexpected, unknown late night visitor, and showed you into my study. You stood before me, in that awful, scruffy old topcoat, drenched with rain and shivering from the cold. There you stood, a drowned rat, a tall, lithe drowned rat, and I thought you the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. I hardly knew how to drag my eyes away from that exquisite face. And then you spoke and I was lost. I knew, in that second, that I wanted to spend my life with you, to grow old with you – never to be further apart from you than I was at that moment.

I have a confession, another one. You recall that, when you accepted my invitation to spend the night, I explained that you would have to share my bed because there were no guest rooms made up? I got very little sleep that night. I lay there in the darkness, basking in the heat from your body and listening to you breathing. I dared hope that we would become friends, that you would return my feelings, as new and fragile as they still were. The improvised meal we had shared that night in the empty kitchen had been by far the best of many lonely dinners spent by myself, savoring Jean-Pierre's wonderful creations without anyone to share them with. I knew then I wanted to get to know you, the brash, confident, if vulgar American who had crossed the ocean to save her little brother, and knocked on a stranger's door late at night to find some help. How could it not be fate, I asked myself over and over again. I would lie quietly beside you, listening to you breathe, hearing those sweet little sleep sounds you made in your throat from time to time, fantasising about a passionate friendship, the laughs and the joys of which I had never in my life experienced, save for books. I could not, would not, admit to myself at the time that what I was really longing for was much more than that, and in a few short days, you had indeed stolen my heart, like you did my breath when I first laid eyes on you.

Eventually, I must have fallen asleep. If you remember that was the morning, your first morning in London, when we had to be up and dressed well before dawn to go to the Police Office so that I could conduct tests on the alleged bloodstains on your brother's jacket. Oh my goodness, all day long my eyes were gritty and sore from lack of sleep, and I feel sure, if you had known me for longer than a few hours, you would have wondered what on earth was wrong with me!

Jane, this letter is far lengthier than I intended it to be, and for that fact I apologise. I offer as a reason, but not as an excuse, the fact that what you call my 'Encyclopaedia Britannica-mouth' tends to run away with me. You know this already. In only four short days you were beginning to tease me unmercifully.

You will have seen the item I have enclosed with this letter. I hope you will accept it in the spirit in which it is given and please, not think me presumptuous and forward in my choice of gift. It comes with all the love I feel for you. Such a love as I never dreamed existed before the day I met you. When we met, that day had almost passed into yesterday Jane, and yet, before that day had ended I knew with a certainty I will take to my grave, that you are the one I have been looking for, been waiting for, all my life. I am thirty-six years old, and for most of those years I have been desperately lonely, and lost. I have long been aware that people regard me as 'peculiar'. Indeed, you yourself once referred to me as 'the mad scientist' – and yes my darling, I do know you were teasing me.

But teasing aside, I have always been aware that I am somehow different from most other women. My adoptive parents became aware quite early on in my childhood that I was possessed of a very high natural intelligence and, fortunately for me, they encouraged me to study, to learn, to read every book I could lay my hands on. For this, as for much else, I shall be eternally grateful to them. There must be many, many women equally as intelligent as I, who did not have the gift of such enlightened parents; who have been kept subservient to men, and used merely to keep house; to cook and clean and to produce children. It has been my experience over the years that men, as a rule, do not like intelligent women. Perhaps such creatures threaten their much-vaunted manhood. I know not, neither do I care.

And now this really is the conclusion of my letter. I look forward to hearing from you and shall stand by the door, ready to waylay the postman when sufficient time has elapsed for this to reach you and for your reply to reach me. The days and hours between now and then will be interminable, but as I said, I have boundless patience.

I hope your mother starts to feel stronger very soon. And I know we have not met, and perhaps never will but will you please convey to her my very best regards? She produced the miraculous creature that is you and I am therefore halfway to loving her already!

You are the love of my life Jane and I will love you until the day I die and beyond.

Ever yours,

Maura

_**This letter was written by **__**Witless544**__**, who saved me from having to fake a Victorian-era British noblewoman's writing style. I would have mangled it in unspeakable ways, and given you a pathetic attempt, probably not much longer than Jane's letter, which would have been a shame for Maura. Witless, a genuine British subject and Jack the Ripper expert, did an incredible job of it, and I can hear Maura's 'Encyclopaedia Britannica-mouth' all over it! Thank you so much! I'm sure she'd appreciate your reviews, so bring'em, bitches! (Oh dear, have I done it again?)**_


	14. Retrouvailles

Maura was sitting at the dinner table, absentmindedly sipping the last of her wine as she finished a chapter of her book. It was already dark outside, and she got up to retire to the study. Mary practically ran into her as she opened the door to the hallway.

"Milady! I hear a carriage coming up to the house!"

Maura bit her lower lip, a weak attempt to not get her hopes up. She couldn't repress a smile.

"Well, let's see who would come visit at such a late hour."

Mary gave her an understanding nod, and they hurried down the hallway to the entrance. Maura unlocked the front door herself just as the carriage pulled up outside. They stepped out under the porch, and Mary turned on the outside lights.

The driver hopped down and unfolded the steps for the passenger to get out. He opened the door as Maura watched with breathless trepidation to see if it was indeed Jane.

A dark-haired, middle-aged woman emerged from the darkness of the carriage. The driver helped her down, and she looked at Maura. Her face broke into a wide smile.

"You must be Maura!" Her voice was gravelly and her delivery very distinctively slow.

Maura smiled and frowned at the same time. Before she could answer, the woman came over to her with outstretched arms. Maura hesitantly lifted her hands in front of her, not quite sure whether it was as a defensive or welcoming gesture.

The woman abruptly stopped, took a step back, and bent her knees in the worst curtsy Maura had ever seen. She then pulled Maura into a tight hug.

Lady Isles patted the older woman's back tentatively, and she looked at the driver over her shoulder.

Without taking the driver's hand, Jane stepped out of the coach and smiled at Maura, waiting for her turn to greet her. Her dress was very similar to the one she was wearing the first night she had knocked on the noblewoman's door.

Maura's heart soared at the sight and she tightened her embrace around the woman, her breath catching in her throat. She took a deep breath, trying to stop the tears from forming in her eyes from the overwhelming joy.

"It's so very nice to meet you, Mrs. Rizzoli..." Maura said with a shaky voice as they pulled away. She couldn't take her eyes off of Jane.

"Call me Angela, please! Jane, are you going to say hello to your friend?"

Jane stepped forward. "Hello, Maura," she said in a carefully controlled tone.

"Hello Jane," Maura replied in the same manner, swallowing hard. She gracefully closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around Jane, burying her face in her neck, inhaling the fragrance of her skin. She felt Jane deposit a quiet kiss on her head, and she held on to her perhaps a little longer than appropriate.

The pulled out slowly, smiling at each other.

"You came back..."

"I promised you."

"I didn't dare hope too much..."

"You'll just have to learn to trust me more..."

Maura nodded and smiled. She turned to Mary.

"Mary, could you get two rooms ready for Miss Rizzoli and her mother? And ask Jean-Pierre to prepare something warm for them."

They stepped inside and the coach driver set down the two suitcases in the entrance hall before leaving. Leaving them behind for George to pick up, Maura guided them down the hall to the dining room.

"Ma, Jean-Pierre is Maura's French chef. He's amazing."

"Oh yeah? Maybe I can teach him a thing or two about Italian cooking."

Maura's eyes lit up. "Oh, please do! I'd love to taste some authentic Italian cuisine! I hope we can find suitable ingredients. I'm afraid the British isles don't enjoy enough sun to grow most of the produce found in the Mediterranean region. But I do have some wonderful olive oil that I had shipped from Italy last spring. As I told Jane, I can send George to Covent Garden Market if you provide us with a list of groceries."

Maura turned to look at Jane as they entered the dining room, expecting her to roll her eyes at her rambling, but all she saw was Jane's loving gaze on her. Maura's breath caught in her throat and although she was truly excited about meeting Jane's mother, she couldn't wait to be alone with her lover and be able to hold and kiss her.

Maura provided most of the conversation while Jane and her mother enjoyed the lamb stew the noblewoman had had earlier. Angela was impressed, but was now even more eager for a challenge.

They had a light fruit salad for dessert. Angela tried to stifle a yawn, and apologized when she failed. Maura sat up.

"Oh, you must be exhausted from the long journey! I don't want to keep you from getting a good night's rest, as much as I'm enjoying your company. Mary will show you to your room, and we can catch up tomorrow. Jane, surely you remember your room?" Maura bit her lip and looked over at Jane with a hopeful look in her eyes. Jane chuckled when she was reminded of Maura's inability to hide her emotions.

"I do, thank you. May I bother you just a little bit longer so you can tell me about the last murder? The one you mentioned in your letter?"

Maura's eyes beamed with delight. "Certainly! Let's go to the study. I'll show you my notes!"

"Oh you girls! Always fascinated with crime and horrors. I'm going to bed." Mrs. Rizzoli turned to the noblewoman and took her hand. "Maura, thank you so much for having me here. I can't ever thank you enough for all you've done for my family. Saving Tommy, taking in my Jane, and now me. You're like an angel from Heaven!"

Maura laughed and squeezed Angela's hand. "Please, it's my pleasure. Indulge a lonely noblewoman who's been craving company for far too many years. I'm so glad you decided to come. I was afraid I overstepped some boundaries when I sent Jane the tickets. Now that you're here, I can't wait to show you around London."

"I would love a tour! And I wouldn't mind checking out that Market of yours. Do you think George would mind if I accompany him?"

"Oh?" Maura seemed surprised anyone would want to go to the market with the servants. She reminded herself these were Americans, who didn't have any servants and did their shopping themselves. "I... I don't think he'd mind at all. I'll mention it to him."

"Thank you. Good night, kiddos. Don't stay up too late."

"Ma! Maura's a Lady, not a 'kiddo'!"

Maura chuckled, and Angela followed Mary upstairs.

Without looking at her, Maura took Jane's hand and hastily led her upstairs. Jane recalled the first time Mary had showed her the way to the study, the night she had met the noblewoman. Maura locked the door behind them and turned to face Jane. They were both breathing heavily, perhaps from walking so fast, or from the anticipation.

Maura brought a hand up to Jane's cheek and leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on her lips. Jane closed her eyes at the sensation, her heart threatening to jump out of her chest.

The noblewoman stepped forward and pressed herself along Jane's lean frame. She wrapped her arms around Jane's shoulders and tilted her face up. They both looked serious, lost in each other's eyes. Jane grabbed her waist and pulled her in closer.

"Kiss me...," Maura murmured against her lips.

Jane pressed her lips to hers and inhaled deeply through her nose. They didn't move for a few seconds, basking in their closeness. Maura threaded her fingers in Jane's dark mane when she opened her mouth and finally tasted her again. They both moaned as their tongues touched and glided in a wet embrace, pushing in and battling as their passion flared up.

Jane guided them onto the sofa, where she eased Maura down and laid down on top of her. She tried straddling the noblewoman, but struggled with the fabric of her dress.

"Curse these dresses!"

Maura laughed. "I took the liberty to ask Mr. Rosenthal to cut a half-dozen pairs of trousers for you. And as many shirts. They're in your closet."

"Maura!..." Jane couldn't help feeling like she was a kept woman.

"Please let me...," Maura pleaded, as if she had heard her thoughts. "It makes me happy to do nice things for you. I've never had this, with anyone. Please let me..."

"I know, I'm sorry. It's just a little... unfair. I can't buy you nice things back..."

"Jane, you make me happier than I've ever been in my life. If I could cook, I'd cook for you. If I could sing, I'd sing for you. There's not a lot of things I know how to do, other than sharing all the scientific facts I've studied over the years..."

"That science of yours saved my brother." Jane smiled and kissed Maura's cheek.

"Well, that's one thing, isn't it?" Maura continued. "Having money has never made me happy. But it makes me happy to spend it on you. So please indulge me, and I promise I'll ask you first next time."

"Then promise me that you'll never think I love you for your riches."

"I know you don't... But remind me again." She pulled Jane down onto her mouth and they kissed passionately for a few minutes. Maura started clutching at Jane's dress, craving the feel of her skin.

"We need to get you out of this dress! Let's go to my room."

"Ah! See? I thought you'd never ask. Hey, do you know what I've been looking forward to?" Jane rasped in a teasing way as she got up from the sofa.

"Is it the same thing I've been looking forward to?" Maura purred, taking Jane's hand.

"That, and taking a bath in that amazing tub of yours!"

Maura clapped her hands and they snuck out into the hallway, tip-toeing all the way to Maura's bedroom like two teenagers in love.


	15. First Night Back

Jane started undressing while Maura prepared the bath. She watched the noblewoman turn the knobs and pour some bath salts into the warm water, savoring every moment with her eyes in anticipation of her touch.

Maura helped her out of her corset, and Jane returned the favor. They both let feather touches linger on bare skin, but never committed to an embrace. They waited, breathless and giddy, through the bath and bedtime routine. They helped dry each other with towels, and Maura pulled a fresh night shirt for Jane, but didn't put one on herself. The American chuckled when she caught her pulling her old one from under the pillow she had used the last time. Maura took it to the hamper and came back.

Jane was standing, still nude, in front of the bed. Maura stopped a few steps away, and let her eyes roam over Jane's tall body, her breasts, her stomach and thighs. Maura wasn't shy. She had waited a long time to finally feast her eyes on Jane, the fading memories of their nighttime lovemaking only conjuring ghostly images of touches and sounds.

Jane did the same, but seemed more reserved about it.

Maura stepped forward and smoothed over the brunette's arm. She pressed her open mouth to her shoulder, not kissing, just feeling the soft skin under her lips, inhaling it.

Jane closed her eyes and sighed, Maura's warm breath causing her skin to erupt in goose bumps. Her nipples tightened with need, and it rippled down her spine into her core. She felt Maura press her whole body against hers and wrap her arms around her back. Jane hummed at the sensation of their warm, naked skin touching.

Maura kissed Jane's shoulder and reveled in the embrace. She let her lips trail across Jane's clavicles to the other side, and came back along her neck and jaw. She kissed the corner of her lips and let their breath mingle back and forth before covering Jane's mouth with her own. They both moaned as their tongues touched and they deepened the kiss.

Maura guided Jane towards the bed and eased her down onto her back. Once again, she paused to admire her body, and pushed her legs apart. She kneeled between them.

"You're so beautiful..." Maura whispered, almost to herself.

The noblewoman set her hands on Jane's stomach, and slid over her ribcage to cup her breasts. She briefly pinched each nipple and Jane arched her body up, taking in a sharp breath. To her disappointment, Maura then trailed down along her hips and thighs. She reached behind her knees and pulled them up, spreading her legs wide apart, exposing Jane's glistening sex.

Jane felt utterly vulnerable and exposed, but realized it fueled her desire even more. Her chest was heaving with shallow, erratic breaths as she watched Maura lower herself between her legs, her eyes locked on hers. She could only imagine what she was about to do, and whimpered in anticipation. Maura planted soft kisses on her stomach, slowly making her way down to the edge of her dark curls. She went around and licked her inner thigh, sucking the sensitive flesh into her mouth, and Jane started rocking her hips up and down, silently begging for attention. She felt the noblewoman's breath on her nether lips, and the burning, silky touch of her tongue darting out to taste her. Each stroke from the tip of her tongue felt like a warm sting, her body jerking up each time it came in contact with her folds. Jane heard her own moans fill the room every time she exhaled.

"Oh Maura,... Maura,... please..."

"Patience, my love..."

The blonde planted a few more kisses around her slit, barely disturbing the abundant wetness that had gathered there from her attentions. Jane clenched her teeth, resisting the urge to use her hands to pull Maura's face against her. Instead, she spread her legs wider, and turned her head to the side in embarrassment at her shameless begging.

Maura smiled and dipped forward, covering Jane's sex with her open mouth, flattening her tongue along her slit and licking it from her opening all the way up to her clit. She sucked in Jane's sex into her mouth, tasting her juices and flesh all at once.

Jane cried out and her hips jerked up, forcing Maura to push forward to maintain her intimate connection. Maura wrapped her hands around Jane's thighs, pulling her down against her to press her mouth harder on her sex.

As restrained as she was, Jane still managed to grind herself against Maura's mouth, whimpers pouring out of her mouth in the same rhythm. She finally reached down and threaded her fingers into Maura's hair.

The noblewoman sucked and licked with abandon, delighted at Jane's reactions, intent on showing her just how much she loved her. Still sucking on her clit, she brought two fingers up to Jane's opening. She looked up at Jane's face as she slowly pushed in, and watched Jane's mouth drop open, her breaths coming in short, rapid bursts. Buried inside Jane up to her knuckles, Maura hooked her fingers into the soft spot above her mound.

Jane gasped and held her breath, her eyes squeezed shut. Maura started flexing her fingers to rub against her front wall, while her tongue went back to work on her clit.

Maura's attentions had shut down Jane's ability to think or move. Focused only on her lover's mouth and fingers, she felt the surge of an orgasm rising from the depths of her core, and her stomach tightened in an effort to conjure it forth. First elusive and shy, it took its time, gathering in the distance under Maura's deft strokes.

Her lungs burning from the lack of air, Jane took in a short, desperate breath and suddenly, the climax rushed forward and engulfed her. Her upper body shot up, a groan trapped behind her clenched teeth, stars exploding behind her closed lids.

Maura kept stroking with her fingers and tongue, riding each spasm as they took Jane. She struggled to keep her fingers inside as they got squeezed by the powerful contractions. Finally, Jane gasped for air, and long moans started escaping her throat. She seized with every aftershock, drawn out by gentle flicks of Maura's tongue, and slowly settled back down onto the bed as they subsided.

Maura slowly pulled her fingers out and wiped her mouth into Jane's thigh. She crawled back up and laid next to her love, who still hadn't open her eyes, and was working on catching her breath. She heard the brunette sigh loudly and hold it in, biting her lip to stifle a sob. Jane pressed her forearm against her eyes and her chest shook as she cried at the intense release. Maura wrapped her arm around her and pulled her in, stroking her hair and pressing sweet kisses on her shoulder.

"Oh Jane, how I love you..."

Jane shifted and returned the embrace, and looked up at Maura with teary eyes. She stared, in awe, at the noblewoman, detailing her cheeks, her nose and lips, and her heart caught in her throat again.

"You're so beautiful... I love you so much..." she croaked, as a fresh tear rolled down her cheek. Maura kissed it away. She rolled Jane back and pulled the heavy blanket over them. She kissed Jane's lips, her cheeks and eyes, and rested her head on her shoulder, her own eyes swimming with tears, a content smile on her lips.

"I want to touch you...", Jane mumbled, her voice already thick with sleep.

"You can make love to me tomorrow. And the next day... And every day for the rest of our lives..." Maura murmured back.

She stroked Jane's hair and kissed the shoulder she was resting on, and they drifted off to sleep.


	16. Double Event

Jane woke up to the sound of a door closing. She opened her eyes and suddenly remembered she was in Maura's bed. The room was already bright with daylight. The side of the bed dipped, and she looked down at Maura. She was already dressed, her hair shiny and perfect, pulled back at the sides and held back by a blue ribbon with a small rose pin. The noblewoman stroked her cheek and Jane closed her eyes at the touch.

"Good morning, Jane."

"G' morning..." The brunette's voice was rough with sleep.

"It's my clinic day today. You can sleep in if you'd like. George will come back after he drops me off and he can take you and your mother to the Market."

Jane groaned. She reached for Maura's hand and brought it to her lips to kiss it. They looked at each other with a smile.

"Thank you,..." Maura murmured.

"I owe you from last night..."

"Yes you do. I'll remind you tonight."

Jane just hummed and kissed her hand again, before tugging on it to pull Maura in closer. Maura obliged and pressed her lips to Jane's. They kissed gently, unhurriedly.

Jane broke the kiss when she spoke.

"I want to go see Detective Frost. They still haven't caught the killer, right?"

"Unfortunately, no. I'm sorry I didn't get to update you last night."

Jane smiled and her eyes went soft. "I'm not sorry."

Maura chuckled. "Me either."

"I want to come pick you up tonight, at the clinic. Like last time?" Jane didn't want to nag Maura or smother her, and she knew Maura was strong and could take care of herself, but she couldn't help feeling protective.

Maura nodded in understanding. "Very well. No later than eight o'clock. That's when George will pick us up."

Jane nodded and squeezed her hand, silently thanking her for not fighting her on the matter.

Maura got up and leaned over for a peck on the lips.

"I'll see you tonight, sweet Jane."

"I love you." Jane blurted out, like she had been holding it in.

Maura smiled at her and reached down to touch her cheek again. "I love you too."

Again, Jane found herself memorizing Maura's face, a nagging sense of dread tugging at her heart. She watched Maura turn around and close the door behind her, leaving her alone in the room, and tried to blame her worries on being in love. She got up and walked over to her room. She opened the wardrobe and saw the trousers and shirts Maura had mentioned. At the bottom, two pairs of shiny leather boots, one black, one brown, were neatly aligned next to each other. A wide smile spread across Jane's face, and she made a mental note to thank Maura appropriately that evening.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It had been windy and raining all day, and every time someone opened the door, a gust of cold, damp air would chill the whole infirmary. Maura looked up from the sink where she was washing her hands to see who stepped in at such a late hour. Her face lit up what she spotted Kate Kelly pushing the door closed. She went over to greet her.

"Oh, Milady, my back has been busy again. I was hoping you'd be there, you're always so nice to me."

"Kate! I didn't expect you back so soon from hopping!"

"Bah, John and I came back early. We didn't get along too well. We made it back here two days ago. Do you think you can work your magic on my back again?"

"Certainly. Find your cot, I have a compress right here."

"Oh, bless you Milady!"

Kate laid down on her side on the cot she'd pick every time, and lifted up several layers of clothing to expose her lower back. She sighed when Maura applied the warm compress to the sore spot.

"I haven't heard of anyone getting murdered again while we were away. Any news?"

"I'm afraid not. I mean it's a good thing there weren't any more victims, but the monster is still at large."

"Good. I'm going to earn myself that reward then. I think I might know who he is, and I'm going to go catch him!"

"You do? You shouldn't go after him yourself though. Go talk to the police!"

"And they'll get the credit for it! I don't think so. I'll get him to confess and I'll get the reward!"

Maura frowned, trying to gauge if Kate was fibbing, but she seemed dead serious.

"Kate, if it's the money you need, I can maybe..."

"Milady! I would never! I'm no beggar! I'll earn it, and Whitechapel will be safe again. You just wait and see!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean any offense. I'm just begging you to be safe. If you really know who the murderer is, you should tell the police. Don't get yourself killed, please."

"Oh, no fear of that. I'll take care of him, you'll see..."

They stayed silent for a few minutes, when a gush of cold air blew across the room. A man with a gash across his forehead teetered in and Maura got up to help him. By the time she was done cleaning the wound, Kate was gone. Maura bit her lip and tried really hard to not worry.

Jane showed up a little bit before eight, wearing the coat Maura had hidden in her suitcase the day she had left, along with her new black trousers and boots. Maura smiled at the sight, it indeed fit her perfectly. She looked around to see that everybody was taken care of, and went to wash her hands, Kate's words still echoing in her mind. She sighed and again, attempted to dismiss her worries. She looked back at Jane, patiently waiting by the door, looking stunningly handsome, even with her wet hair and red cheeks. It seemed everybody in the room was thinking the same thing, with Jane oblivious to the stares.

Maura's chest swelled with pride at the realization, and she hurried out to meet her love. They stepped outside and climbed in George's carriage.

As the coach rumbled forth, Maura planted a kiss on Jane's lips and took Jane's hand in hers.

"How was it being back at the police station?"

"Oh, Maura, Korsak took me to the Metropolitan Police and showed me a letter they received from the murderer. He sounds like a sick bast..."

"Jane! Language."

Jane smirked and continued. "It sent chills down my spine. He plans on killing more, and won't stop until he gets arrested. He signed it 'Jack the Ripper'."

Maura brought a hand to her mouth. She looked at Jane.

"What? Maura, what is it?"

"Kate... She came in today, she said she knew who he was, and that she was going after him. For the reward."

"What? Was she serious?"

"I don't know if she really knows him, but I'm so worried..." Maura placed a hand on Jane's knee. "Jane, we need to go back. We have to find Kate. I'm afraid something terrible will happen to her."

Maura stood up and knocked on the partition to call George. When he slid it open, she ordered him to turn around and go back to Whitechapel.

Jane couldn't think of anything to say, and she couldn't deny Maura. In the back of her mind though, she knew this was probably a terrible idea, and they were about to make all her nightmares come true. And right she was.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jane was running, her new boots clattering on the wet cobblestone. The streets were now dark and deserted, the few people still awake at this late hour had converged to the murder scene. In the distance, Jane thought she could hear the faint echoes of the small crowd. Or maybe it was the murmurs of the insistent drizzle. She reached another intersection, stopped to look around, hoping to spot Maura's familiar silhouette.

She picked the alley on the right, with no reason at all. She was lost.

"Maura!" Her voice was just a strangled whisper, from calling so much. "Maura, please...," she repeated to herself. A hoarse sob ripped through her throat and she covered her mouth with her hand. Tears surged up in her eyes and she blinked them away, making the dim street lights stretch into long, blurry streaks in front of her.

Lowering her eyes, she spotted something long and shiny a few feet in front of her. She looked up and around before approaching and kneeling down. Her breath caught in her throat as she lifted up one end of the blue ribbon, and dangled it in front of her, trying to catch some light. Still pinned through the wet fabric, the rose pin hung at the end of it. The image of Maura she had committed to memory that morning flashed through her mind, the blue ribbon blending with her honey blonde hair...

In all her years spent at Catholic school, and going to church with her family, she had never truly prayed to God. She had just repeated the words like everybody else, as an obligatory and comforting routine.

She clenched her fists by her sides, looking up into the cold, sharp drizzle and prayed with all her might. She prayed for God to keep Maura safe. She prayed for the Ripper to stay away from her love. She prayed for him to take her instead. The American let out a long wail through her clenched teeth and looked down the alley. She started running again, replaying in her head every fateful moment that had led to this.

Maura, George and Jane had searched for Kate for hours, even thinking they had found her when someone had mentioned seeing her that evening, surrounded by a crowd, imitating a fire engine. But they couldn't locate her anywhere. It sounded like Kate had been drinking, leaving Maura anxious to find her and make sure she wouldn't do something rash and get herself killed.

It had been way after midnight when they had finally given up, and were making their way back to the carriage, when they heard someone yelling "Murder!" and "Police!". They had hurried to find the source, and were led to a group of people gathered around a dark form lying on the ground. Maura had gasped at the sight, but had nonetheless approached the body, pushing away people who were trying to shield the noblewoman from the horrific scene.

Maura had grabbed a lantern from one of the men and had held it close to the woman's face, which was turned to the left. She had let out a sigh of relief to see it wasn't her Kate, but immediately recognized the work of the Ripper from the gash across her throat. Someone had swatted the lantern from her hand, mumbling how inappropriate it was for a Lady to gawk at a dead body. George had pulled her out of the crowd and guided her to the back, where they had waited for the police to arrive. Jane had then instructed George to go get the carriage so they could take Maura home.

A few dozen people had assembled around the park by the time two police constables had showed up. One recognized Jane from the police station, and started talking to her, and that's when Jane had heard Maura's voice from the back of the crowd.

"Jane! It's Kate! Jane!"

Jane had looked up, trying to spot Maura over the crowd, and had struggled to make her way through the throngs of people, towards Maura's voice. She had called after her, but hadn't gotten a reply. Somebody asked if she was looking for the noblewoman, and told her she had ran down a side street, saying something about Kate, and that Kate had "seen him". Jane remembered mouthing "No!" through her teeth before running down the same street, expecting to find Maura just around the corner. She hadn't.

Jane tightened her fist around Maura's blue ribbon, feeling the pin dig into her palm. She slowed down to a walk. She turned to the left into a small, dark square, her footsteps echoing between the walls. She continued to the right, towards the dim light of the connected street. As she walked by, a dark bundle stood out from the inky shadows of the square, and she stopped.

Her heartbeat pounding in her chest and ears, she turned and stepped closer, gradually, as her eyes adjusted, struggling to recognize a human shape lying on the ground.

Maura's dress was pulled up high, exposing the flesh of her abdomen, and her bowels had been pulled out and draped over her shoulder. Her face was covered in blood.

She was too late.

"No..."

Jane felt the air leave her lungs like a punch to the stomach. Her face, hands and legs became numb, and she thought she might fall down. She had stopped moving, but the ground seemed to move closer. Darkness closed in from the edges of her vision, and all she could hear, as if from underwater, was the blood rushing through her body, pumping through her heart, faster and faster.

"No..."

Maura was dead, at the hand of the Ripper. Her poor little body was destroyed and all Jane could hope was that she had died quickly.

Jane slumped forward, her arms crossed over her stomach, and she started panting helplessly.

"No..."

She closed her eyes and opened them again, hoping to wake up. She was dimly aware that the killer might still be nearby, but she would have gladly let him take her too.

The tears suddenly came and ran down her face, and she let the violent sobs wrack her body. She cried for Maura.

She cried for herself.


	17. Jane's Breakdown

"Jane..."

Jane opened her eyes and through the tears, saw Maura's face in front of her. She was pale and her voice was a distant echo.

"Jane, we have to go now."

"Maura, I'm so sorry."

"I know, we need to leave. Can you walk?"

Jane nodded, and looked down at Maura's dead body. She smiled at the ghost, glad that she didn't cross over with all the blood.

"Am I dead?" Jane asked out loud.

Maura didn't answer and led her back towards the outside street, towards the light. Jane realized they were holding hands, and their fingers were cold. Maybe they were both dead, and she was relieved. They took a few turns and emerged into a main street. Maura hesitated, then tugged on Jane's hand and they hurried down another street.

"Where are we going?" Jane suddenly asked, realizing Maura seemed to have a goal.

"We need to find the police! And we need to find George! He's probably still on Berner Street, worried to death!"

Jane chuckled at Maura's joke. But then her face fell. She slowed down and stopped, pulling Maura to her.

"Maura?"

Maura turned and looked at her. She had been crying, her eyes were red and swollen.

"Maura?..."

Maura tilted her head and furrowed her brow. "Jane? What is it?" Fresh tears welled up in her eyes and she stepped forward into Jane's arms.

This time, Jane felt her weight, her heat, her touch. She inhaled the scent of her hair and pressed her cheek against hers.

"My poor little Kate..." Maura sobbed into her neck.

"Maura...," Jane murmured in her hair. "Oh my god, Maura, I thought it was you... I thought you were dead. I thought... I had lost you."

Jane felt Maura gasp and the noblewoman leaned back to look at her.

"Oh Jane..."

She cupped her cheek and Jane kissed her palm, bursting into tears again. She wrapped her arms around Maura again and held on tight while she cried tears of relief, kissing Maura's face and lips between sobs.

"Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm here. I'll never leave you. I'm sorry." Maura cried with her, and she let Jane hold her as long as she needed.

"I'm sorry..." Maura repeated when Jane finally stepped back, and they started walking again towards Berner Street, with Jane holding on to Maura's hand, unable to let go.

The police had been keeping the crowd away from the murder scene, and Maura spotted a few constables talking to groups of people. She also sighed in relief when she saw George waiting by the carriage, talking to Detective Frost.

"Lady Isles!" George ran to her as soon as he saw her and held her elbow. Jane let go of her hand and stood to the side, quiet and haggard. Maura saw the relief in George's eyes and felt a pang of guilt in the pit of her stomach, both for her faithful coachman, who was struggling not to take her into his arms, and for Jane, who had truly believed she had seen Maura's mangled body. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes and she stepped forward into George's embrace. Taken aback, the older man only hesitated for a second before wrapping his arms around the noblewoman.

"Oh, George, I'm sorry! You must have been so worried."

"Milady, I thought something terrible might have happened to you... You almost gave an old man a heart attack."

"I'm sorry..." Maura repeated, her voice hoarse from the tears. She pulled away and turned to detective Frost, who had taken a few steps back to give them some privacy.

"Detective, you'll find another victim in Mitre Square. Her name is Kate. Katherine Kelly. She died at the hand of the same monster who killed the other ones, by the looks of it."

"Lady Isles!... Did you see him?" Frost stammered.

"No, I was running after her, but I lost her early on, and only stumbled upon her body by chance. It was too late."

Frost glanced over to Jane, but she was staring at the ground in front of her, a ghostly look on her face.

"Thank you Milady, we'll send a patrol there right away. May we send for you if we have any questions?"

"Certainly. You know where to find me."

She took Jane's arm and guided her inside the carriage, and George took them home. The ride was quiet, and Jane alternated between staring at Maura and staring down at her boots in the darkness of the small cabin.

"Jane..."

The American looked at her, but remained silent.

"Jane, I'm so sorry..." Maura's voice broke, and she took Jane's hand in hers. She brought it to her lips and kissed it. "I know what I did was reckless and I caused you terrible pain. Forgive me, please..."

Jane let her head fall back and clenched her teeth while a strangled cry escaped her throat. She took a deep breath and spoke in a small, strained voice.

"He cut your belly open and pulled out your insides... He... sliced through your face. Your poor face..." Her throat clenched shut and she stared in the darkness, through the top of the carriage, the haunting vision still etched in her memory.

Maura nodded and she cried for Jane. She held the brunette's hand to her chest.

"I know, I'm sorry."

"And when I realized it was Kate, I was... I was so relieved. I thanked the Lord that it was Kate... and not you."

They looked at each other, their eyes shining with tears in the moonlight. Silence fell between them, and the carriage eventually stopped in front of the Isles Mansion.

Once in Maura's bed, Jane spooned her whole body around Maura's smaller frame. She let the heat of their bodies meld between them, and nuzzled into Maura's hair.

Sleep eluded them, but neither one spoke. Morning came and they hadn't moved.

"How do you feel?" Maura said softly. She rolled over and faced Jane.

Jane looked up at her with bleary eyes and shrugged.

Maura brushed her hand over her cheek. "What can I do?"

Jane shrugged again.

Maura sighed and kissed her forehead. The brunette closed her eyes but didn't respond.

The noblewoman hesitated.

"I want to go see Kate's body," she blurted out, looking nervously at Jane for her reaction.

Jane's eyes went wide, then squinted at her. She had to clear her throat and spoke with veiled disgust.

"Are you serious?"

"I need to see her. I want to find the killer..." She watched Jane bite her lip. "I owe her at least a try."

Maura could see Jane pondering the request, and waited for a response.

Jane shook her head slowly, trying unsuccessfully to dispel the nightmare from the previous night.

"I... I can't..."

Maura spoke softly. "It might help you. To see that it's Kate..."

Jane took a deep breath and rolled over on her back. She looked at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry. I can't... I just need a little time, okay?"

Maura nodded and kissed her shoulder. She got up and got ready, while Jane stayed in bed.

When Maura came down for breakfast, Angela was at the table already, cracking the top of a soft boiled egg.

"Good morning Maura. You look tired. You stayed out late last night. Long evening at the infirmary?"

"Good morning Mrs. Rizzoli. We... we didn't come home until the middle of the night." She sat down and looked up at Jane's mother. "There was another murder. Two in fact. Jane and I found the body of one of my patients. It was... horribly mutilated."

Angela gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you."

"Of course you should tell me! Are you okay? Where's Jane?"

"She's still... sleeping." Maura paused. She was talking to Jane's mother. She'd want to know, right? She didn't know if her own mother would be interested.

"... I think she's still in shock."

Angela frowned in disbelief. "Janie's in shock? She's seen dead bodies before. Did she see it happen?"

"No but..." Maura sighed. She felt comfortable talking to Angela, but reminded herself she didn't really know the woman, and certainly couldn't assume she'd approve of her intimate relationship with her daughter.

"... when she saw the body, in the dark,.. she thought it was me..." she finished breathlessly.

Angela looked at the noblewoman for a few seconds, then her eyes dropped lower, over her hands. She sighed.

"She cares about you. A whole lot. She read that letter of yours over and over again until the pages went limp..."

Maura nodded and struggled against the tears.

Angela continued. "I'm glad she found a friend like you. She's always with her brother and the guys at the police station, even though she won't go out with any of them. She's such a tomboy. Maybe you can teach how to be more lady-like."

Angela smiled at the noblewoman, and reached over the table to touch her hand.

"Oh don't you worry! She'll get over it."

"I hope so. Thank you."

An hour later, Maura sat down in the back of the carriage, and George loaded up her suitcase in the back. As the horses lurched forward, the door swung open and Jane hopped on. She finished buttoning up her shirt and pulled her coat on.

"Not a word," she warned Maura as she sat down next to her.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Maura's lips, and the coach took off.

_**No cliffhanger this time! Thank you so much for the reviews, and for sticking with me. Still to come: a clue, finally, and a night at the Opera!**_


	18. Kate's Autopsy

They arrived at the police station mid-morning, and Detective Frost immediately led them to the morgue. Maura set her suitcase on the table by the sink, and stepped in front of one of the sheet-covered slabs. Frost was standing by the door, nervously fidgeting with his key ring, trying hard to not look directly at the bodies. Jane stood next to Maura, careful not to touch anything.

Maura slowly pulled the sheet down to the chest and paused. It wasn't Kate. She lowered it all the way to the waist.

"What's her name?" Maura asked Frost.

"Elizabeth Stride. We'd see her in here pretty often when she'd have too much to drink." The detective was staring at Maura's face, avoiding looking at the body all together.

"Prostitution too?"

Frost nodded.

Maura went back to the pale body and observed the edge of a wide gap across the neck.

"Same width, about six inches, similar to the other victims. Very deep on the left side, it cut through the arteries," she stated out loud. She glanced at Jane, checking that she was paying attention. Jane smiled and nodded, thanking her silently for sharing. The noblewoman continued.

"The ear lobe is ripped, but fully healed. An old scar, probably from an earring. Bluish discoloration over the chest." She lifted the rest of the sheet before placing it back across the woman's hips. "No other recent injury."

She lifted the right hand and checked the back, palm and fingernails, and did the same on the other side. "No defensive wounds."

Maura pulled the sheet back up over Elizabeth Stride's face, and stepped over in front of the next slab. Jane swallowed and braced herself. Frost discreetly stepped back into the hallway.

Kate's body had been washed, although not thoroughly. There were still clots of blood in the creases and corners of the wounds. As Maura slid the sheet lower, revealing the extent of the horror, Jane felt the anguish surface again, and she closed her eyes, waiting for the feeling to pass. She heard Maura's voice and let the sound of it pull her back from her nightmare.

"Same wound across the neck. Severed arteries on both sides. Several deep cuts across the face, through the bone and nose. Eyelids are cut. Cheeks are cut th..." Maura's breath hitched and she paused. She swallowed and took a few seconds to breathe. She didn't look at Jane, and resumed her commentary.

"Cheeks are cut through..." She looked lower, at the skin flaps sagging into the hollow of the abdomen. She paused again, taking in the absolute horror of the wounds.

"Oh Kate...," she murmured. Despite herself, tears gathered in her lids and she blinked them away. She couldn't help but look at Jane, and saw she was crying too, tears quietly running down her cheeks. The brunette reached into her pocket for a handkerchief, and she pulled one out, along with the blue hair ribbon with the rose pin. Maura let out a soft gasp.

Jane froze, and held her hand up in front of her, the memories of the previous night rushing back like a tidal wave. She clenched her jaw and looked up at Maura, as fresh tears surged up in her eyes.

Maura stepped forward and took Jane's fist in her hand. She pried her fingers open and pulled out her ribbon. She drew the pin out and held it between her fingers, biting her lower lip.

"It was Annie's pin. I had always admired it as a child. She gave it to me when I turned 18. I thought I'd lost it for good last night..."

She brought the rose to her lips and kissed it before slipping it in her pocket. She reached for Jane's arm and squeezed it.

"Thank you."

Jane nodded through the tears and offered a weak smile.

"Do you want to continue?"

Jane wiped her eyes and cleared her throat. "Yes. Let's get that bastard."

They smiled at each other and Maura went back to the body. She resumed her commentary, detailing the abdominal cuts and noting the missing kidney, which had been skillfully extracted without much damage to the other organs. A piece of the ear lobe was missing.

Finally, she lifted Kate's hand and examined her nails. She squinted her eyes and went to pull out a pair of tweezers and a piece of white paper from her suitcase. She carefully scraped under three of Kate's nails, and deposited the resulting lint on the paper. She brought it up, closer to the light.

"Fibers. Dark blue, most likely wool. Detective Frost?"

Barry peeked in from the hallway. "Yes, Lady Isles?"

"Where are Kate Kelly's clothes?"

"Who? You mean Katherine Eddowes?"

"Oh, is that her maiden name? That's not how she introduced herself."

"Yes, she was never officially married to that Kelly character. Anyways, the clothes are in this bag." He pointed at a cloth bag on the ground, at the head of the slab, and retreated back into the hallway when he accidentally glanced over at the exposed body.

Maura emptied the bag on the table near the sink, and sorted through the garments one by one.

"No blue fibers. Not like this."

Jane stepped forward and looked at the fibers. She was still holding the handkerchief in her fist, inside her coat pocket. Her face lit up and she plucked at the bottom of her pocket before pulling her hand out. Brown wool fibers were caught in her nails, on the same fingers Maura has scraped off.

"Maura. She reached inside of _his_ pocket before he killed her! What if she managed to pull something out...?"

"Detective Frost!" Maura called again.

The detective's head popped in.

"Did the police find anything in her hand when they moved the body?"

"No, I don't think so, Milady. We found several buttons caught in the clotted blood on the ground, but they belonged to her own clothes."

Maura draped the sheet back over the body and she packed up her suitcase.

"We need to go back to the crime scene. If she had pulled anything out, she would have dropped it on the ground when he killed her. They probably already washed off the blood," Maura lamented. "Detective, would you mind accompanying us?"

"I certainly should! This is police business!"

They practically ran to Maura's coach and George took them back to Mitre Square.


	19. Back at the Crime Scene

_**If you haven't noticed, my account got deleted again, so I'll be re-posting everything a third time, except for Threesome, because apparently it's way too offensive.**_

_**I'm really sorry about all the wonderful reviews that got lost.**_

_**And thank you again to Witless544, all the way in England, for all her help and for making this so much fun to write.**_

_**I took advantage of the re-post to change Frost's description in Chapter 1 and keep him as-is, a gorgeous black man, instead of turning him into a red-head, because when I write him, I just can't picture him as someone else. We'll just ignore the implications of having a black man detective in England in 1888.**_

_**Re-set your Alerts and Favorites since my name changed to AngelqieFanfic!**_

**_But most importantly, here's the next chapter of 1888:_**

As soon as they entered the Whitechapel area, they could see from the inside of the carriage that people were staring at them. They'd turn their heads and follow the passing coach with dark, angry eyes. Maura squeezed Jane's hand and they looked at each other, silently acknowledging their unease.

"It should just take a minute," Jane reassured Maura. "If there's even anything left."

Detective Frost frowned as he caught someone spitting on the ground as they rode by.

As they approached Mitre square, they slowed down and George peeked through the front panel.

"Milady, there's a gathering of people, I don't think it's safe for us to try and go through. The crowd doesn't look too happy."

Jane looked up at the driver. "Stop here. Maura will stay with you. Detective Frost and I will go."

Maura was getting ready to protest, but Jane gave her a stern look, hoping she wouldn't have to bring up the previous night to convince her. "Please." I wasn't a question.

Maura nodded and sighed in consent. She watched as Jane and the Detective stepped into the street and headed towards Mitre Court on foot, braving the glares of the locals.

They walked for a few minutes, and entered the small court. Dozen of people were gathered there, talking in groups, sometimes raising their voices in anger. Most of the conversations weren't in English.

"Russian and Hebrew," Frost whispered to Jane, anticipating her question. Jane nodded.

They made their way to the corner where Jane had spotted the body, and she was grateful to not recognize anything that would have reminded her of her awful discovery. In the daylight, the square looked bigger, and the crowd made it difficult to identify any specific landmarks, not that she had seen any in the thick darkness of night.

People were standing around right where the body had been. The sidewalk was still wet, and the blood had been washed away. Looking down, moving slowly, Jane looked for something, anything that would stand out. She widened her search, along the wall, then down in the gutter.

She followed the natural flow of the water for a few feet, and stopped when she spotted a piece of twine, about 3 inches long. It was stuck in a crack between the pavement and the curb. She kneeled down and with two fingers, she pulled the wet, dirty twine to dangle it in front of her.

People started to part to look at the trousers-wearing, well-dressed brunette, and she quickly gathered the twine in a little ball in her fist. She got up and gave a round of the same hostile glare she was receiving. For some reason, it worked and people lowered their gaze, going back to their conversation, looking at her sideways.

Jane continued for a few feet, and bumped into Frost who had been checking the other side. He shook his head at her. She shrugged, her fist deep in her pocket, careful not to let it touch the wool of her coat.

Jane looked around one last time, making sure they hadn't missed anything, and they headed back out of the square, but not before someone muttered something under their breath, something clearly insulting, judging by the tone. She could sense the volatile atmosphere around them deteriorating and they walked faster, hoping nobody would feel cocky enough to confront them.

Looking down the street, she had a moment of panic when she couldn't see the carriage where they had left it. They kept moving forward, and she finally saw it further down, facing the other direction, ready to go if needed.

"Hey!" A male voice barked at her as she walked by.

She felt a hand grab the sleeve of her coat and shrugged it off, forcing herself not to run.

Frost took her arm and pulled her closer to him.

"She doesn't feel well! Make way! Make way! Please!", he started shouting, a hand in front of him in an urgent warning. Heeding the cue, Jane hunched over, keeping her arms close to her body, and looked down at her feet.

Frost led them straight through the crowd, pushing people out of the way, not caring anymore about the stares and insults. Finally closing in on the carriage, the detective pushed Jane forward and they started running. As Jane finally pulled the door open and hopped onto the coach, she banged on the side panel and yelled at George.

"George, go, go, go!"

The older man whipped the reins and the carriage lurched forward, the few people in front of it getting out of the way of the horses.

Jane fell onto the bench next to Maura, and Frost pulled the door closed behind him before plopping down across from them. Both were catching their breath, exchanging glances and acknowledging how much worse it could have been.

"Jane..."

Jane turned to Maura, and she squeezed her hand. Jane resisted the urge to embrace her in front of Frost, but Maura beat her to it. She wrapped her arms around Jane and buried her face in her neck. Jane held her tight, and glanced over at Frost, who still had a twinge of fear on his face. The American chuckled to herself, thinking he might need a hug too.

Maura finally pulled back and cleared her throat. She wiped the tears from under her eyes with the tip of her fingers and looked at the both of them.

"Did... did you find anything?"

Jane pulled out the fist she had kept in her pocket the whole time, and lifted it up in the middle of them. With her palm upright, she slowly opened it. Both Frost and Maura leaned in to get a better look.

"A piece of twine?" Frost stared at it, disappointed.

Jane shrugged. "That's the only thing I found... Probably not even related. Sorry."

Maura pulled out a fresh envelope from the suitcase and dropped the twine in it. She put it back in the suitcase, right next to the envelope that contained the lint from Kate's nails.

"Detective Frost, I'm afraid this might not help at all, but I'll let you know if I find anything of significance. I'm sorry we got ourselves in a potentially disastrous situation."

"Please, Milady, no need to apologize. I'm the one who carries the blame. I shouldn't have let you and Miss Rizzoli near the scene again when it was clearly unsafe. I'll probably get reprimanded for it."

Maura smiled at the young detective and placed a hand on his arm.

"There's no need for anyone to find out. We won't tell if you don't."

Frost hesitated for a few seconds and offered a nod to seal the deal.

They dropped off Frost back at the police station, and as soon as he stepped out and out of view, Jane engulfed Maura in her arms and pressed her lips to her mouth, and Maura kissed her right back. After a few seconds, they parted, out of breath, but still holding on to each other.

"I'm sorry Maura, I shouldn't have gone."

"I guess we're even now." Maura said softly, a sad smile on her lips. "Let's go home and look at that twine of yours."

Jane scoffed and rolled her eyes.


	20. In the Secret Lab

Back at the Isles mansion, Maura led Jane to the back of the house, which Jane had never previously visited. It was the end of the afternoon, and it was already getting dark outside. The long hallway was dark and almost sinister. Maura opened a set of double-doors and stepped in. She went around the dark room and lit a half-dozen lamps, each one revealing the different sections of the laboratory.

Jane's eyes roamed around the room, taking in the multitude of shelves lining the walls, stacked with vials and beakers. Other glass and metal equipment were arranged on top of cupboards, seemingly organized by function and type. Specimens and materials were neatly gathered in wooden cubbies, labeled and dated. She realized the Mad Scientist label she had given Maura on their first night was truly appropriate.

Maura walked directly to a large metal table in the middle of the room, a bright lamp hanging directly above it. She pulled the two envelopes out of her suitcase and set them on the clean surface. She turned around and pulled two glass dishes from a cupboard, and set them on the table, next to the envelopes. She went to another cupboard and pulled out a tray with different tools arranged on it.

Maura stood in front of the table and opened the first envelope. With a pair of tweezers, she pulled the small cluster of lint out and deposited it in one of the dishes.

Jane was standing on the other side of the table, watching Maura's every gesture.

The noblewoman lifted the dish in front of her and brought a magnifying glass up to her eyes.

"It looks like wool, dark blue, as I said earlier. Some dirt, probably from under her nails. No blood or skin." She scrutinized the dish for a few seconds more, then set the whole thing down on the other end of the table.

She pulled out another pair of tweezers and fished out the piece of twine Jane had found on the street. She lowered it onto the empty dish and examined it like previously, with the magnifying glass.

"There's a lot of dirt and debris on it. I'll have to clean it up."

Maura brought over a bottle of clear liquid and with a eyedropper, filled the dish halfway with it.

Maura looked up at Jane and shrugged. "It's just distilled water."

"Oh." Jane seemed disappointed, and Maura chuckled.

Maura stirred the twine around with the tweezers, and the water became gradually murkier and darker as the twine brightened up.

Maura finally pulled the twine up and laid it in flat on a small porcelain plate. She observed it again.

"It's made up of two pieces of twine. One natural white, one red. And..." Her eyes widened and she glanced at Jane briefly. She poked at the twine once more with the tweezers, just to make sure.

"... And?" Jane asked impatiently.

"And there's quite a few dark blue wool fibers in it."

Maura went back to the dish with the dirty water. Most of the debris and filth had settled at the bottom. Careful not to disturb it, she leaned over it with her magnifying glass. The blue fibers floating at the surface collected easily around the metal tweezers as she swirled them around in the dish.

"Jane, I'm... I don't want to draw conclusions, but this piece of twine might have been what Kate pulled out of the killer's pocket. It contains a number of fibers similar to the ones we found under her nails." Maura finally looked up at Jane, breathless.

"How... do we find the killer?" Jane shook her head, urging Maura for more.

"I don't know yet. Twine is so common and widely used, it'll be difficult to find its origin. It might take some time. And some luck."

Jane sighed and her shoulders sagged.

"But Jane, this is the first time he makes a mistake! It's the closest thing we have to a lead, after all these months! This is extraordinary!"

Jane couldn't help but smile at Maura's contagious excitement. Maybe this would lead to the killer after all...

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jane and Maura sat down at the dinner table, wondering if Angela would show up. Mary had been vague about what the Rizzoli mother had been up to for the day when Jane had inquired.

"Is she even home?" Jane asked as she set her napkin on her lap. Maura had scolded her enough times that she had stopped wearing it like a bib.

The door to the kitchen opened and a maid came in with two small plates. As he placed one in front of Jane, her eyes widened and she gasped.

"These are Ma's mushroom crostinis!" Jane picked up her plate and got up. "Where's the kitchen?"

"You don't remember?" Maura laughed and picked up her plate as well. She led Jane through the doors and down a short hallway, into the kitchen where they had shared food and a glass of wine the first night Jane had knocked on her door.

Angela Rizzoli was hunched over the stove with a wooden spatula in her hand, stirring in the fistful of salt she had just thrown into the pot of boiling water. She dropped the spatula in a dish next to her and turned around to check on the sous-chef, who was finishing rolling the last of the Gnocchi with a fork. The Rizzoli matriarch looked up and spotted Jane and Maura by the door.

"Don't just stand there, girls! Sit down, eat your crostinis, the salad's next!" She gestured towards the big wooden table that ran across the kitchen. Jane walked over to the end, out of the way, and gestured to Maura to come over.

They sat down, just as Jean-Pierre came back into the room with a jar of cream in his hand. He looked at Maura with a mixture of surprise and horror.

"Milady, vous ne pouvez pas manger en cuisine! C'est pas possible, ça!"

"Je suis desolée, Jean-Pierre. Ces Italiens n'ont vraiment aucune manière. Je n'ai pas pu refuser," Maura answered in perfect French, and couldn't repress a smile from creeping up on her lips. She shrugged at her outraged cook.

Jean-Pierre shook his head and handed the jar to Jane's mother.

"Oh là là,... Elle va me rendre fou, celle-là!"

Maura chuckled, realizing Angela had probably bossed her staff around all day to prepare the meal.

"Ah, thank you! Cream for the gnocchis." Angela set the jar on the table, and spun around, looking for something. "I need peas, where are the... Ah!" She spotted the bowl with freshly husked peas among the numerous other bowls of ingredients lined up on the table.

She addressed Maura across the room. "You were right! They didn't have any good tomatoes at the market, even though they're in season. I had to improvise."

Maura nodded and started cutting into her crostini with a knife and fork. Jane laughed and swatted the air above her hands.

"No no no, you pick it up with your hands. Like this!" Jane lifted up the small toast between her fingers and took a bite out of it. A piece of mushroom fell out on the table and she picked it up to shove it in her mouth.

"Mmh?" Jane gestured at Maura to do the same while she chewed on her food.

"Allright..." Maura mimicked Jane and brought the crostini to her mouth. She bit into it with a loud crunch and chewed with her lips closed tight, careful to not spill like Jane had.

The brunette shoved the second toast into her mouth and licked her fingers clean.

"Where's the wine?" she yelled across the room, not sure who she should ask.

Jean-Pierre and his sous-chef looked at each other, and the younger man ran out the door back towards the dining room. He came back with the bottle of red wine and the clean glasses they had left behind. He poured for both of them, but before he set the bottle down, Angela approached with two empty glasses. "What about the cooks?".

She waited for him to fill up the glasses, and handed one over to Jean-Pierre. With wide eyes, the Frenchman looked over at Maura, hesitant. He held a palm in front of him to politely decline, but Angela gave him a disbelieving glare.

"We've cooked all day, you get to drink with us!" She turned to the sous-chef who was pouring. "You too! Get yourself a glass!"

Maura smiled and nodded at them when both cooks shot her a distressed glance. Jean-Pierre sighed and took the glass, while the sous-chef poured himself a small amount in a cup.

Angela raised her glass. "Salute!"

Everybody cheered with her and raised their glasses before taking a sip.

Before long, they were opening a third bottle and everybody was sitting at the kitchen table, engaged in a loud conversation about tomatoes and grapes. Everybody's cheeks had taken a nice rosy color. Angela, Jean-Pierre and the sous-chef had alternated getting up to check on the dishes, and serving them at the table.

Maura watched with amusement as Angela and Jean-Pierre poured over the Gnocchi, exchanging kitchen tricks, debating the merits of Olive oil versus butter. She felt a warm hand on her arm and looked over at Jane, who was smiling at her. Her heart soared as they gazed into each other's eyes, and she fought the urge to kiss Jane right then. She bit her lip, and felt a yawn coming on. She remembered they hadn't slept at all the previous night, and her eyes watered as she stifled the yawn. She looked at Jane's dark, puffy eyes and blinked slowly, acknowledging their exhaustion. The wine had given them a much needed buzz, and they were floating on a cloud of content, the Ripper all but forgotten.

Maura and Jane washed up quickly, eager to finally lay in bed and fall asleep in each other's embrace. Jane spooned Maura again like the previous night, but Maura turned into her arms to face her. She pressed her lips to Jane's and kissed her leisurely, like she had wanted to all day. Jane let her mouth respond on its own, and she closed her eyes.

The image of Maura's bloody, mangled face flashed behind her eyelids, and she opened her eyes in panic. She whimpered and pulled back.

"What's wrong?" Maura asked, concern painted on her face.

"I'm sorry, I still see you... I see Kate..."

Maura nodded sadly, and cupped Jane's cheek with her hand. Jane covered it with hers and turned her face into it to kiss it. She brought Maura's hand up to her forehead and slowly slid it down her face. She breathed into it and she felt her heart slow down, and her panic recede. She repeated the gesture again, and let the calm wash over her.

"I would die..., if anything happened to you," Jane murmured into Maura's hand as it slid down her mouth.

"I know..." Maura's heart jumped in her throat at the thought of losing Jane.

"I don't want you to go to Whitechapel until they catch him." Jane's eyes were steady, hard. Maura knew it wasn't up for discussion.

"I won't. I'll have the clinic notified."

Jane kissed Maura's hand and exhaled loudly in relief. She mouthed a quiet "Thank you" against her palm and closed her eyes again. The last thing she felt before falling asleep was Maura's soft lips on her cheek.


	21. Jane's Punishment

"Maura, do we really need to go anywhere today? We already did the British Museum yesterday and Westminster Abbey the day before!" Jane whined as she helped her mother onto the carriage. Maura followed and Jane plopped down next to her.

"Jane!" Angela scolded her, "Lady Isles has been incredibly nice to take us for a visit, and I, for one, have been really enjoying sightseeing around London." She turned to Maura and rolled her eyes at Jane's behavior. "She's never been fond of museums and lectures, that one. Always running around and getting in trouble."

"Ma!"

"I've gathered that, Mrs. Rizzoli. It's her punishment for making me stay away from the clinic." Maura gave Jane a quick wink. "And I haven't visited any of these places since I was a child, I must say it's bringing back very pleasant memories."

"Oh how lovely! Did you use to go with Annie?" Angela asked.

"Yes, yes I did." Maura looked at Jane, finding it endearing that Jane had shared stories about her with her mother. However, she couldn't help wondering what else she had talked about.

"Annie and George would take me for visits a couple of times a year, when we'd be back in London. I would always look forward to it."

"I understand your parents were traveling a lot. Seems like they still are?"

"Yes, my father is in India, and my mother travels all over Europe to work with charities. Sometimes when they're in London they come to visit me, but they don't always have time."

"Aw! Who wouldn't make time for their own daughter? Do they not stay with you at the house?"

"No, the house is mine. They stay in North London, where nobility lives. I'm afraid I'm a bit of an oddity, I chose to reside on the wrong side of the Thames. But it allows me to help with the clinic, and frankly, I avoid mingling with my own kind as much as possible."

Jane laughed. "Did you see Jean-Pierre's face when he saw us in the kitchen the other day? I thought he'd have a heart attack!"

Maura chuckled.

"That was so improper! Thank goodness your mother made him drink some wine."

They laughed and bantered all the way to the Tower of London, which Maura had insisted they visit that day.

As they stepped out of the carriage, Maura looked up at the imposing fortress, squinting against the late morning light. Jane caught Maura's beaming, curious eyes and her heart clenched in warm affection at her lover's genuine sense of wonder. She prepared herself for another day of Encyclopedia Britannica-mouth, hoping she'd remember a fact or two, for Maura's sake.

Despite her sarcastic remarks, Jane actually enjoyed visiting the Tower, seeing the treasures it contained and learning about their history from Maura. From the top of the building, Maura pointed at the construction of a new bridge, the Tower Bridge, the British capital's latest project.

All three women stood outside, overlooking the Thames, huddled together against the cold breeze, taking in the breathtaking view of the river and the monumental construction site.

One arm wrapped around her mom's shoulders and the other holding Maura's hand, Jane sighed and wished she could stay there forever. She imagined coming back with Maura alone and pictured herself down on her knee, proposing to the love of her life with a ring. Jane smirked at her own silliness. With further thought, she'd actually propose by Annie's tree, where they'd had their picnic.

Just then, both Jane and Maura looked at each other, and Jane swore the noblewoman could read her thoughts. They gazed at each other for long seconds, their eyes shining with unspoken love.

"You're beautiful," Jane mouthed silently.

"Thank you," came the breathless answer, and Maura tucked her head against Jane's shoulder, sighing in content.

They made their way back down and rode the carriage to "Simpson's in the Strand" for a late lunch. Jane and her mother raved about it, having never eaten at such a fancy establishment.

That night, in bed, Jane spooned Maura from behind as usual. She still hadn't been able to touch the noblewoman without picturing Kate's dead body, and Maura didn't want to push her. They hadn't brought up the Ripper or the twine since the lab, but the Whitechapel killer tainted their every thought. Maura was hoping their day trips and visits would settle them back into normalcy.

"They're performing Aida at the Royal Opera House. Will you accompany me?"

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

Maura smiled in the dark. "Yes, I am. Will you please go on a date with me?"

"I'd love to go on a date with you."

"You'll have to dress up."

Jane chuckled. "Yes, dress me up. Thank you for asking."

"Oh splendid!" Maura wiggled in excitement in Jane's arms, already picturing Jane in a top hat and tails.

"You already had my suit made, didn't you?" Jane smiled into Maura's hair.

"Yes." Maura couldn't lie. She knew Jane would forgive her.

She rolled over and pushed Jane on her back so she could rest her head on her shoulder.

Jane kissed her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks and lips. Maura laid still, letting Jane set the pace, confident that the American would eventually find peace and be ready again.

Sleep took them and Maura dreamt of Jane in White Tie and top hat, running through the streets of Whitechapel looking for Maura, shouting to the world she wanted to make love to her. Maura was waiting in her carriage, naked, blushing and wet with anticipation. Outside, an angry crowd of bridge workers rocked the coach back and forth in a tantalizing rhythm.

_**Finally! A Night at the Opera! Fasten your seatbelts...**_


	22. A Night at the Opera

Jane stepped off the carriage and helped Maura down. They walked away from the loud clatter of horses and slowly made their way towards the Royal Opera House with the crowd.

Maura had picked a emerald green gown with turquoise accents, with her hair pulled up in a cluster of ringlets. Her hand was resting on Jane's arm, who towered over most men with her top hat, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She looked stunning in her black tailcoat, with a white waistcoat and starched wing collar shirt, a white bowtie around her neck.

They could hear the murmurs as they walked by, with the occasional mention of "Lady Isles", whispered in hushed tones. Maura smiled and gave polite head nods to acquaintances. They gracefully climbed the stairs to the Grand Tier level and an usher showed them to their box. He took Maura's shawl and Jane's hat and hung them by the entrance.

Jane pulled Maura's chair back and slowly pushed it in for her, her mouth hanging open the second they had stepped inside. She had never seen the inside of an opera house, let alone one this big and beautiful. It was painted all in blue and gold. Below them, the crowd on the Orchestra level was rumbling with a multitude of conversations and the constant shuffle of guests taking their seats.

Maura smiled, thinking it was probably the first time she saw Jane truly in awe, the same way Maura would stare when she saw something wonderful. Jane looked both stunningly handsome and truly innocent.

The noblewoman touched Jane's sleeve and guided her down into her seat.

"Wow," Jane finally said, and turned to Maura, with the same expression she'd had looking at the auditorium. She reached over and took Maura's hand.

They looked around and Maura gave a head nod to a woman a few boxes away, to their left.

"Who's that?" Jane asked quietly.

"Lady Pender. Her husband is away in Australia most of the year, and I suspect the young gentleman who's sitting with her is one of her lovers. He's cute."

Maura nodded again at a grey-haired gentleman across the way.

"Sir Morgan. He proposed to me when I was 22. He retracted his offer when I said I'd want to keep studying science."

"He's so old!"

"It doesn't matter, marriage is mostly a business arrangement. He's very wealthy. His wife is perfectly happy raising his children, running his staff and spending his money."

As Jane kept looking around, and she spotted people glancing at Maura and conspiring.

"What are they saying about you?"

Maura smiled and sighed. With a frown, she mimicked a low, disapproving tone.

"It's Lady Maura Isles! She hasn't gone to the Opera in years. Did you know she's still single? She must be almost forty! She bought that dreadful mansion on Sydenham Hill, south of the river! Can you imagine, living there by yourself, with the commoners?"

The noblewoman's tone switched to sultry.

"Oh, but wait, who's the gorgeous creature next to her? Jane Rizzoli, you say? She looks so exotic and handsome. If it was me, I couldn't possibly keep my hands and mouth off her. I'd make love to her every..."

"Maura!" Jane swatted her arm and they chuckled in unison.

They heard the orchestra tune up, and the conductor walked up to his box. The audience rose to their feet and clapped. The lights dimmed as the murmurs of the audience died down.

The sound of a violin broke the silence. The music swelled as more instruments joined in.

Finally, the curtain rose, revealing an ancient Egyptian palace, with the pyramids visible through the rear gates. The bass started singing.

Jane gasped, her wide, shiny eyes going back and forth between the orchestra and the actors on stage. It was her turn to look like a little kid.

Maura leaned over to Jane and whispered in her ear.

"The high priest is telling the warrior that war with the Ethiopians is inevitable."

Jane turned to Maura, their faces almost touching. Hey eyes darted down to her lips, then back to her eyes, shining with the reflection of the stage below.

Before she could embarrass them, Maura squeezed her arm and turned back to the stage, urging her to wait, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

At the end of the second act, the lights came on and everybody got up for the intermission. Maura led Jane out onto the balcony, and they looked around into the night.

"This is Covent Garden. Remember?"

"I remember from the letter. I'm still waiting from your famous strawberries." Jane smiled and stepped closer. There were only a few other patrons out, and they stood further away.

"You might have to wait until spring. We had a short season this year. Too cold."

"Speaking about cold, you're shivering. I'll go get your shawl."

"Thank you."

Jane had only been gone for a few seconds when someone leaned against the balcony next to Maura. The noblewoman turned to look.

"Garrett!" Her smile was fake.

"Hello, Lady Isles. It's nice to see you out."

He leaned closer to her. "I've missed you."

Maura scrunched her nose. He reeked of alcohol. She stepped away slightly.

"So you've got my note."

"Yes, even though I don't understand. I thought we had a nice thing going on."

"Things change..."

"Curious, I haven't heard any rumors of Milady finally settling down."

"Because they wouldn't be true."

"Then I can't imagine you suddenly stopped having these urges. Tell me you don't miss me." He grabbed her arm, and she politely pulled it away.

"I don't. I don't miss you at all, Garrett. And you're drunk."

"Observant as always... I miss you. I miss pounding my hard cock into your tight little cunt..."

His head snapped back with a hard crack as Jane's fist connected with his jaw. He slumped over the balcony but Jane pulled him back up by the lapel of his coat.

"You'll pay for this, lad." He cocked his fist back and stopped when he realized Jane was a woman. "I see you brought your Tom al..."

Jane punched him again and he fell to his knees.

"Jane!" Maura yelled as quietly as she could. From the other side of the balcony, people were pointing and shooting worried glances at them.

Jane grabbed Garrett by the back of his hair and pushed him down at Maura's feet. He struggled to get back up but Jane held tight.

"Apologize! Apologize to the Lady, you bastard!" She growled through her clenched teeth.

Garrett spat on the floor, his saliva mixed up with blood.

"Why should I? She's a filthy wh..."

Jane pushed down and ground his face on the tiles. He groaned and turned to the side, his face squished against the floor. Jane gave him another shove down and squeezed the back of his neck.

"Jane!" Maura pleaded, but Jane couldn't hear through the haze of her roaring anger.

"Apologize..." Jane hissed.

"I'm... I apologize." Garrett whimpered.

"I don't think she heard you..."

The nobleman took a deep breath and spoke louder. "Lady Isles, I apologize. I'm... terribly sorry and... I shouldn't have spoken to you... in that manner. I'm sorry... Please..." His voice broke and a tear ran down his cheek onto the tile.

Jane released her grip on his neck and straightened up. She picked up Maura's shawl from the ground and handed it to the noblewoman. She leaned down to Garrett, who was still slumped over on his knees.

"Don't you ever speak to her again, do you hear me? Don't even look at her."

Without looking up, he nodded slowly.

Maura grabbed Jane's arm and pulled her up. Without a word, she led her back inside and down the stairs. People were starting to funnel back into the auditorium for the third act, and they struggled against the flow to get back to the main entrance.

"Maura, where are we going?"

"We 're going home! How dare you?"

"What? Why are you mad at me? Didn't you hear what he said to you?"

"You acted like an animal!"

They stepped outside and Maura waved for her coach. The usher ran and got George, who tried to hide his surprise at them leaving so early. He brought the carriage around and let them in.

"I heard perfectly well. And I don't care!" Maura half-yelled, half-whispered in the darkness of the small cabin.

"How... How can you not care? Do you still want him? Do you miss his hard cock in your..."

Maura slapped Jane across the face and the brunette gasped in shock. As they passed a street light, Jane saw Maura bringing her hand up again, and she grabbed her wrist as it came down to soothe her cheek.

They breathed heavily for a few silent seconds. A crushing grip on Maura's wrist, Jane guided the noblewoman's hand to her burning cheek and turned to breathe into her palm.

Maura moaned and closed her eyes. When she opened them, a passing light showed Jane all the pent up lust the noblewoman was fighting to repress.

Letting go of her hand, Jane pushed into Maura with her whole body and forced her into the corner of the small bench.

"You liked it." Jane whispered, their lips almost touching.

Maura whimpered helplessly.

"You liked me acting like an animal..." The brunette brushed her lips against her cheek, and slowly smoothed over to the corner of her mouth.

"Did it turn you on? Did it make you wet?"

Maura's mouth fell open and she exhaled the breath she was holding in. She still didn't answer.

Jane rested her lips against hers, without kissing. She reached down and pulled at the ruffled dress and the layers of undergarments to get between Maura's legs. She pressed her hand onto the blonde's inner thigh and slowly crept up higher, bunching up her drawers on the way up. She felt Maura's breath accelerate against her lips, and eager hips tilt up to meet her hand.

"Do you want me? Tell me."

"Yes... Jane... I want you... I need you," the noblewoman admitted breathlessly.

Jane grabbed a fistful of fabric and yanked at it, ripping the drawers in the middle, exposing Maura's drenched folds. Jane moaned when she slid three fingers deep into silky hot wetness, and she pushed her tongue into Maura's mouth in a brutal kiss, inhaling Maura's cries.


	23. Jane The Stud

Jane pumped her fingers in and out, pushing in with her whole body, grunting with every thrust.

Maura was grasping at her neck and back, pulling her closer, her loud whimpers drowned out by the carriage's wheels and the hooves of the horses. Every few seconds, a streetlight would cast its dim light inside the carriage and catch them in their frantic lovemaking.

Jane bit down on her neck and greedily sucked on the tender skin, fully aware of the mark she'd be leaving. She moved up higher, below her ear, and branded her again. She wished she could rip the clothes off Maura to suck on her breasts, but she'd have to wait.

As she pounded into Maura, she could feel the seam of her trousers sliding against her core, and she lifted herself up and over Maura's leg to shamelessly grind against her thigh.

"You're mine, Maura... Nobody can touch you... only me,..." she panted between thrusts.

"Yes... I'm yours... All yours... You're the only one I want... You're the one... Oh... Jane... Jane..." Maura stifled a sob into Jane's neck, and her body shot up in a violent spasm. Her walls clenched around Jane's fingers, trapping them inside.

Jane kept flexing her fingers, eliciting more moans from Maura and drawing out her climax. Endless seconds passed, and Jane suddenly felt a hot gush fill her palm and leak into the bunched up dress under Maura. The noblewoman cried out and sobbed into Jane's shoulder, unable to stop herself.

"Oh god, Maura,... oh my god... I love you..."

Jane felt the rise in her core and slowed down to press harder onto Maura's thigh. "Oh, yes... oh Maura..."

She came with shattering force, and her whole body jerked back in an impossible arc. A raspy groan rumbled through her clenched teeth. They both stopped moving, riding the climax for long seconds together.

Slowly, the twitches slowed down and the throbbing stopped.

Jane slumped forward onto Maura, who wrapped her arms around her shoulders and head. Both were panting heavily. The noblewoman kissed her hair and cheeks, and Jane lifted her chin up to kiss her lips. They kissed slow and lazy, slowing down as their breathing returned to normal.

Jane extracted herself from Maura's lap to settle back down onto the seat next to her.

Maura cupped the cheek she had slapped earlier.

"I'm sorry I hit you."

Jane turned into her palm and kissed it. "Thank you... Why didn't you slap _him_?"

Maura smirked in the dark and hesitated.

"What?... What is it?"

"... He likes it."

"What?"

"He likes being slapped around and humiliated. He probably stayed down on his knees because he became aroused."

"God, no! Stop, ew!"

Maura laughed. "I'm sorry, darling. You asked."

Jane fell silent for a few moments and looked out through the small window. She couldn't help but imagine Maura dominating Garrett and ordering him around, and she felt a tingle of renewed arousal. Except, she realized, she wanted to be the dominant one.

She turned to Maura again, and a brief flash of light allowed them to see each other's eyes. They were both thinking the same thing.

"Have you ever... let... anyone?" Jane swallowed, nervous about the answer.

"No."

"Would you let me?" Jane asked, already out of breath with anticipation.

"Yes,..." Maura nodded in the dark.

When the coach stopped in front of the mansion, Maura straightened up her dress the best she could, hoping that her ripped drawers wouldn't slip down and drag on the floor. She held on to her dress as she stepped inside, and headed directly to her room, ignoring the curious look Mary gave her when she saw her mistress' disheveled hair and dress. Jane followed up the stairs, struggling to keep a respectable distance between them.

Jane practically slammed the door behind her when they entered Maura's bedroom.

Maura had stopped in the middle of the room with her back to Jane. She stood still, her chest rising up and down as she breathed.

Jane stepped forward and stood behind her. She smoothed her hands down over Maura's arms and felt the goose bumps forming in their wake. Starting at the top, she unclasped the small hooks in the back of the dress, and lifted the heavy garment over Maura's head. She then proceeded to loosen up the laces on the corset, followed by the chemise. The two petticoats were damp from their earlier encounter, and Jane smiled at the ripped drawers.

Finally, the noblewoman stood naked with her backside to her, head low, anxiously awaiting Jane's orders. Maura shivered in delicious agony. She felt utterly exposed and vulnerable, feeling the hungry gaze of her lover on her.

Jane, still impeccably dressed in her full attire, stepped back and admired the curve of Maura's spine, her hips, and her buttocks. She placed a hand on her hip, and slowly moved to the side. The brunette lifted Maura's chin up with a finger, before tracing a line down her neck to her clavicle, and over the swell of her breast. She paused over the erect, dusky nipple and grazed over it in slow circles, barely touching it. She saw Maura closing her eyes, and her lips parted in a silent gasp.

Jane moved her hand lower and cupped the noblewoman's heavy breast, weighing it in her upturned palm. Biting her lower lip, she closed her hand to squeeze it roughly. She stepped closer to Maura from the side, and fisted the hair just above the back of her neck. She pressed her face into the side of Maura's head, inhaling the scent of her luscious hair.

"I love how you smell..." She dipped her head to kiss the soft skin of her neck, and saw the bruise she had left here earlier. She kissed it tenderly, reverently, dragging her lips and tongue over it. Maura couldn't stop a moan from escaping her lips.

Slowly, Jane's roaming hand wandered lower, over a pale, soft stomach. Jane stopped at the edge of Maura's curls, and she felt the blonde tremble under her palm. Jane's blood rushed faster and hotter through her veins, as she reveled in the power she held over the noblewoman. Never had she felt so alive, elated and humbled all at once.

Jane finally stood in front of Maura and dipped her head to kiss Maura's lips, cradling her head, an arm around her waist. She possessively pulled Maura into her, and kissed her open-mouthed, her tongue pushing inside, demanding entrance. Maura couldn't help but comply, and she whimpered when Jane abandoned her mouth to move lower, towards her breasts.

Jane sucked each nipple hard into her mouth, licking and biting at the hard pebbles, groping at the soft flesh. She rapidly moved on to her stomach, kissing her way lower, where her hand had been earlier. She was now on her knees.

"I want to taste you." Jane breathed against her skin, Maura's curls tickling her lower lip. She grabbed Maura's buttocks in each hand, and darted her tongue between her drenched folds, flicking at her sensitive button.

Maura cried out, and threw her hear back in ecstasy.

Jane pushed her face forward between Maura's thighs, forcing them apart. She sucked on Maura's juices, letting the noblewoman's moans guide her strokes. She barely noticed her hands kneading and splitting her cheeks apart as she eagerly lapped at Maura's sex, intoxicated by the smell and taste of her lover. Her own sex was clenching in torturous empathy.

Maura was aroused beyond words. Seeing Jane on her knees, making love to her with her mouth and tongue was the most erotic thing she'd ever experienced. She felt Jane's nails rake over her lower back and ass, and wished she'd press harder, for she wanted to feel Jane as intensely as she loved her. She needed the pain to match the pleasure Jane's mouth was eliciting between her legs. Maura let her mouth fall open and panted helplessly as Jane pushed her warm tongue into her opening. Her legs started trembling with the threat of an orgasm.

Before she could climax, Jane slowed down. She kissed the soft skin where the thigh meets the hip, and used her hands to spin Maura around, so she'd face her rear.

Jane kissed the right cheek, and sucked on it, harder and harder, until Maura gasped at the pain. She moved on to the other cheek and bit down on it, waiting for the same reaction. Next, Jane raked her nails along her back and hips, leaving red trails on soft skin. She watched the scratches fade away, and continued down Maura's ass.

Maura was slowly rocking her hips forward and back, and her inner thighs were glistening with juices. She had kept her arms by her sides the whole time, her hands balled up into fists, panting helplessly as the pain mingled with pleasure in an intoxicating cocktail.

Jane stood up and spun Maura around with a firm but gentle hand. She guided her towards the edge of the bed, and bent her over so her hands rested on the mattress. She pushed her feet apart, exposing her cunt and ass to her hungry eyes. Jane ran two finger along her drenched slit, but didn't enter her. Maura whimpered in frustration.

The tall American groped both cheeks in her hands, kneading the tender flesh roughly, enjoying the imprints she left under her touch. Tentatively, she pulled her hand up and let it come down in a gentle slap. Maura exhaled sharply, but didn't move. Emboldened and aroused, Jane swatted the reddened cheek a little harder, and this time Maura actually moaned, and arched her back higher, pushing back on her heels, begging for more.

"Oh Maura..." Jane breathed out, and she slapped Maura's ass one more time, wincing at the sharp sound it made. Maura cried out but didn't flinch. Jane could see her chest rising up and down in breathless arousal. Jane's hand came down a few more times, gradually harder with each strike. After Maura's last cry, Jane fell to her knees to soothe and kiss the burning skin with her mouth, caressing the sore area with a gentle palm. She peppered feather kisses around it, kissing the wetness between her legs, her soaked opening and her sensitive button. Maura was moaning at the delicious sensations, swaying back and forth to steal more pressure from Jane's mouth.

Jane got up again and frantically pulled her trousers down, along with her drawers. They bunched up around her ankles, blocked by her boots. She grabbed Maura's hips and instinctively pressed herself against Maura's ass, grinding and grunting at the sensation, but hesitant about what to do next.

"Jane..."

"Mmmh?"

Maura looked up and back at Jane. "Jane, may I suggest something... to make it easier?"

Jane reached for Maura's arms and pulled her up against her. She bit down on her shoulder. Maura gasped softly.

"Mh, what is it?"

"Let me show you?" Maura slowly pulled away from Jane, and walked over to her dresser. She could feel Jane's eyes following her every move.

Maura opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a wooden box. She set it on the floor next to Jane. Without opening it, she turned and kneeled in front of the brunette. She unlaced her boots, pulled them off, and helped Jane step out of her trousers and undergarment.

The noblewoman looked up at Jane, and slowly closed in to press her lips on Jane's stomach. She kissed her way lower, to the edge of her curls, and breathed warmly against her skin, inhaling Jane's arousal. To Jane's dismay, she pulled away and went back to the box. She opened it and pulled out what looked like a brown leather horse's bridle. Jane's eyebrow shot up, not sure who Maura intended to put it on. To her surprise, Maura fitted the harness around her hips and between her legs. Before pulling the leather straps tight, Maura extracted a brown, rounded leather tube from the box and fitted it through a ring on the front of the contraption. Jane gasped as she realized what it was supposed to substitute, and Maura tightened the straps around her waist and thighs.

The dildo was designed with a slight curve upwards. The leather was smooth and Jane couldn't spot a seam anywhere. She closed her hand around it and weighed it, unconsciously pushing her hips forward. It was rigid and hard inside, but the leather covering it was supple enough to give under her fingertips.

Speechless, Jane watched Maura close her lips around the shaft, and she groaned in arousal. She rocked her hips back and forth, pushing her cock in and out of Maura's mouth. She suddenly stepped back and pulled Maura to her feet.

"I had my sadler..." Maura started, but Jane covered her mouth with hers, pushing in with her tongue. With a wet, sucking noise, she broke the kiss and guided Maura back to her previous position, her hands on the bed and ass presented in front of her. Maura cried out when she slid two fingers into her opening without warning, then pulled them out.

Jane guided the tip of the dildo up to Maura's sopping wet entrance, and slid it all the way in to the hilt, until her hips touched Maura's ass. She heard Maura's breath hitch, then resume, and Maura started rocking back and forth, encouraging Jane to move with her.

That's all Jane needed to start thrusting her hips forward, gently at first, but quickly accelerating to slam her pelvis against Maura's ass in a frantic rhythm. Maura whimpered helplessly with every breath, gradually slumping forward under Jane's assault.

Jane held on to the noblewoman's hips for dear life, adjusting her angle so the base of the dildo would grind against her clit with every thrust. The wet, slick noises her cock was making inside of Maura's cunt were driving her crazy with desire, and she felt her climax starting to build up.

Jane leaned forward and reached around to Maura's front. She pressed two fingers against Maura's clit, her frantic pounding making them slide against it effortlessly. With her other hand, she grabbed a handful of ass and dug her nails into the soft, still sensitive flesh, and she felt Maura stiffen under her.

"Oh Jane, Jane,... Jane..."

Maura's clit tightened against her fingertips, and the noblewoman finally cried out in endless sobs. Jane slumped over her and pushed in deep one last time. She finally came undone herself, low groans escaping her throat as she desperately ground her hips into Maura's back side to draw the climax out. Maura was still coming under her, trembling in ecstasy. Maura fell forward on the bed, bringing Jane down with her as they both twitched with aftershocks.

They lay, one on top of the other, for long minutes, catching their breath, their sweat mingling and cooling down their bodies. Jane would occasionally slide in and out of Maura, slowly, gently, while she kissed the back of Maura's neck.

The blonde hummed her approval, reveling in her lover's attentions. The night was still young...

_**Omygod, I'm exhausted. I would edit it down, but I can't. Sorry if there's some typos left. Was it too much? I blame Witless544 for the inspiration. **_


	24. Bliss and The Talk

_**Gosh! Can you believe I'm back? Oooh, so many things happened, still happening, good things mostly, but I wrote this practically a sentence at a time over the last few weeks. Easing back into it, slowly. Just to say it's a short one. Ha! But it'll lead to more spectacular things, don't worry.**_

_**I'll try to post regularly again, I'm really sorry about the long break. I need to finish this story, especially that I know exactly how the last chapter will unfold. But it's the getting there that's still a little fuzzy. Bear with me and thank you for reading. You might need to go back a few chapters like I did to get back in the mood. Please don't leave me. I love you.**_

Jane and Maura spent the next week practically holed up in Maura's bedroom, and ate what Mary would bring up for them. Angela spent a lot of time in the kitchen, going to the market every day with the sous-chef.

After the second day, Maura had begged Jane for a break. She had been sore since the first night, but Jane was relentless and gently teased Maura, cajoling and caressing her until she had given in and they'd had more sex. And then some more. They'd only sleep when were too exhausted to stay awake, sometimes still inside each other. They were both sore but couldn't keep their hands off. They spent most of the time covered in juices, sweat and saliva. Their daily bath was just another excuse to have more sex.

They'd have sweet sex, rough sex, tired to the bone sex, cranky sex, make up sex, wake up sex.

They'd have sex in the bed, by the bed, in the bathtub, on the chair, against the wall, at the wash basin, on the dresser, by the window, on the floor.

The Ripper was all but forgotten. For now.

"Jane?"

"Mmmh?"

Maura propped herself up on an elbow. They were lying side by side on the bed, still wet and salty from earlier. Jane opened one eye and saw Maura looking at her with a serious face. She felt a pang of worry.

"What is it?"

"Jane,... how long... How long do you think you'll stay?"

Jane swallowed. She had been purposefully avoiding thinking about the future. She didn't want to assume she could live with Maura, but she also felt homesick. She cleared her throat.

"I don't know..." Jane brushed her hand over Maura's arm and lowered her eyes. "I can't stay forever, can I?"

"Why not?"

"Do you want me to?"

Maura hesitated. She didn't want to seem too eager. Even though she had no sense of boundaries, she felt she shouldn't push Jane too hard. But she also couldn't bring herself to lie.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to be your wife." Maura looked at Jane and seemed to flinch. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for Jane's reaction.

Jane smiled and lifted Maura's chin with her finger. Maura locked her eyes with her.

"Maura, I'll marry you. I want to be with you. Forever..." her voice trailed.

"But?"

Jane sighed. "... But Ma will want to go back to the family. With my father gone, she'll want us around. I can't stay here and turn my back on them."

"Oh Jane, I would never ask you to do such a thing! I... Perhaps I could visit Boston for a while?"

Jane's face lit up. "Would you? But would you leave... everybody behind?" Jane gestured at everything around her, implying her mansion and servants.

"Oh I'm sure they'd appreciate the break. Maybe we can come back a few months out of the year, and of course Angela is always welcome here if she'd like to join us."

Jane looked at Maura, awed by how easy it was to love her, and she leaned forward to kiss her lips. She lingered for a few seconds and pulled back.

"What was that for?" Maura inquired, with a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"For being you. I never knew it could be like this. So easy. So... wonderful."

Maura's eyes welled up with tears. She smiled and kissed Jane hard on the lips, inhaling hard to keep the tears from falling. She held on tight for long seconds, and finally broke the kiss.

"I know...", she whispered against Jane's mouth. "And now that I've found you, I'm never letting you go. I'll follow you to the end of the world."

"Well, just Boston, really." Jane smirked and rolled her eyes playfully.

"You know what I mean, Jane Rizzoli..."

"I do, Lady Isles..."

The kiss was slow and languid, both reveling in their newfound confidence. The certainty that no matter what happened, they'd have each other.

The next week was spent making arrangements for them to travel back to Boston. Maura spent long hours with the family attorney, making sure the staff and contractors to the estate would be taken care of while she was away. She also contacted an agent in Boston to try and find a suitable place to live while abroad.

Angela was besides herself. She wanted Maura to love America. She'd praise the land of the free, but would back pedal so she wouldn't set Maura's expectations too high. She warned Maura that nobility and titles had no place in the United States, while also defending her country's respect for old world traditions. Jane and Maura would chuckle at Angela's back and forth, and just with a look, know that everything would be fine, as long as they were together.

They were set to depart on the RMS Baltic in five days. Angela, Jane and Maura were sitting at the table having lunch, in the same places they had established the first night.

They were finishing the poached pear they'd had for dessert.

Angela got up to gather the plates.

"Angela!", Maura protested. "You shouldn't..."

"Tut tut, in Boston you'll do most of the housework yourself. You won't have the luxury of a whole staff doing all the chores."

"Oh? I asked for a house with a full staff though."

Jane's eyes went wide. "You did?!"

"Why yes! Why wouldn't I? I'm hoping to volunteer at a local clinic, still, if they'll have me, and maybe the police department. I can't possibly do all the housework as well!" Maura was shocked they would suggest such a thing.

"I... I suppose not..." Jane stammered, thinking about her father who had never cooked a meal, washed dishes or clothes in his life. She remembered their first bath together, when they had discussed the challenges of being a woman, and right then, Jane realized Maura was a lot braver than she'd take credit for. Maura was indeed strong, just like George had stated, however, unlike Jane perhaps, she was graceful about it. Again, Jane was left speechless with love and respect for her mad scientist.

The brunette looked at Maura intently, her eyes soft again, and Maura almost chuckled. She got up and started helping Angela clear the table. Jane groaned and reluctantly lent a hand. She had gotten used to the luxury of having servants. In a couple of weeks, she'd have to go back to her chores. Why did she want to go back to Boston again?

They had gone down to the lab after lunch and Maura was sorting though her chemical samples, throwing away the ones that wouldn't make it though the extended period of her leave. Jane was slowly thumbing though a thick book she had found on a shelf, hoping to find drawings or schematics to distract herself. She thought it might be time to ravish Maura against the sink.

A knock came from the door and Maura called them in. It was Mary with a small folded note on a tray.

"Milady, a boy delivered this note for you. It's from detective Frost."

Maura glanced over at Jane and they both knew what it meant. A wave of anxiety rippled through Jane's stomach and she winced at the physical discomfort. Maura took the note and waited for Mary to leave.

She read it and folded it again.

"They found another body this morning. They're waiting to get into the room..."

Jane sighed and stomped her foot. "Do we _have_ to go?" she whined in her best childish voice.

Maura tilted her head at her and took her hand. "Let's go. He said they wouldn't let me look at the body anyway. Not fit for a lady. We'll see about that."


	25. At the Crime Scene

The carriage was two streets away from the crime scene when George spotted Frost waving him down from the side of the road. The detective spoke to George briefly and then hopped inside the carriage. He sat down across from Lady Isles and Jane.

"Good afternoon ladies. You got my note. Thank you for coming." Frost said very formally.

Jane rolled her eyes with impatience.

"Frost, what's wrong with you? What's going on?"

"I'm sorry Miss Rizzoli. I wasn't supposed to contact you. I might get into trouble for it, but I think you two are our best chance to catch the killer. They will not give you access to the crime scene, I'm sure of it. It would be highly inappropriate for a lady. From what I hear, the room is covered in blood and... " Frost paused to let the nausea pass. "... and entrails."

The detective pressed the back of his hand to his lips to supress a gag reflex and closed his eyes.

The two women looked at each other and smirked.

Jane whispered from the corner of her mouth to Maura: "And they don't let _us _look at the crime scene?"

The carriage stopped abruptly and jostled everybody inside. Frost looked out the window.

"They have closed off the court's entrance. Let's go. We might have to enter through an adjacent building." He opened the door before George could get to it and jumped out.

Maura frowned and stepped out after him. "Detective Frost, are we going to have to... sneak in?"

Frost shrugged at her and offered her an embarrassed grin. "Do you want to back out and go home?"

Maura turned around to face Jane, half in panic, half in excitement.

Jane chuckled and put a hand on Maura's lower back to usher her forward after Frost. Maura pinched her lips and practically clapped as she skipped along.

They turned into an alley and entered a building. The hallway was dark and narrow, muffled voices and cries came through the thin doors on either side. Instead of taking the stairs up, they went in the back, turned the corner and along another corridor. Small windows lined the wall just below the ceiling, and they could hear voices outside.

"I think this is the right courtyard. They're still waiting for the hounds to shop up, I think."

Frost slowly opened the door, just enough to take a peek. Jane put a hand on his head and pushed him down so she could press her face to the crack above him.

Four men were gathered around a door in the courtyard, right next to the adjacent window, probably looking into the same room. After a few seconds, Jane realized they were actually careful _not_ to let their gaze wander to the window. They weren't talking to each other either. They seemed pale and shocked, like they'd just seen a ghost. Jane felt a wave of empathy at them, remembering the night she'd found Maura's dead body. She recognized one of the detectives from that night as well.

She whispered to Frost: "Why aren't they going in?"

"They've been waiting for the hounds. It's been a couple of hours now."

"I want Maura to look at the crime scene."

"I know."

"What about it not being fit for a Lady?"

"This lady is tougher than most men I know. Including me."

"What's going on?" Maura quietly enquired from behind them.

Jane turned to her.

"Maura, we need to get you into that room."

"But they're watching it!"

"We'll create a diversion." Jane turned to Frost. "Right?"

Frost took his face between his hands and slowly slid them down.

"Oh gosh, there goes my career..." He took a deep breath. "Yes, we'll create a diversion, Miss Rizzoli."

Jane smirked and patted his shoulder. "Call me Jane."

"Maura, listen. The window looks open. Do you think you can climb in? The scene sounds like it's atrocious. I know you can handle it, but it might be hard to stay clean and leave it undisturbed."

"I'll be careful." The noblewoman lifted up her dress, just to try it, and winced.

"Tell you what. Let's switch." Jane started taking off her belt. "Hurry, we need to get in and out of there before the bloodhounds show up!"

Frost quickly turned around and waited for the ladies to swap clothes in a noisy shuffle of fabric. A gentle tap on the shoulder announced the end of the exchange. He turned around to see Jane in a dress too short by five inches, and Maura wearing trousers cuffed up at the ankle. He stared at Maura for a second longer, shocked to see her in trousers.

"Go in as soon as you can. See if you can find anything that can lead us to him. Before they mess up the crime scene again..." Jane shot a glance at Frost, who just shrugged.

Maura nodded, her eyes bewildered. She grabbed the back of Jane's head and pulled her in for a fierce, yet brief kiss. Frost hastily turned around again.

Jane grabbed his arm. "Let's go."

Maura watched them go back through the hallway they came from, then stood by the outside door, peeking through the crack for her cue. She waited for about four minutes when she heard a deafening scream cut through the silence of the court. A commotion of broken glass and banging followed.

"MURDER! MURDER! IT'S THE RIPPER! GOD HELP US! THE RIPPER! AAAAAH!"

Maura recognized Jane's fake English accent, even though it wasn't obvious. She watched the men in front of the door look up across the court, and Maura guessed Jane was on the third floor of the building they were looking at. Three of the men started running towards the cries, but the fourth heeded the signal to stay there and stand watch. Maura cursed under her breath. Then she saw Frost running in from the street and he shouted at the remaining detective to join the others. He stood in front of the window, and glanced over towards Maura's position.

Maura slipped through the half opened door and ran, holding her pants up like she would her dress, towards Frost. The detective repressed a chuckle at how uncomfortable Maura looked in her attire.

Up across the street, they could hear Jane screaming her head off and banging on the walls.

"Lady Isles, hurry, I'll help you."

Frost helped Maura climb up the window sill and pushed the curtain aside for her. His eyes darted away too late and just as Maura landed in the blood-covered room, he became limp and slowly fell to the ground, unconscious.

Maura's eyes widened in horror, despite the warnings. Her hand went to her thigh to fetch a handkerchief, but she had left it with Jane in her dress. She pressed her empty hand to her face to lessen the stench of blood and entrails.

The small room was splattered with blood, and viscera and organs were scattered around the body that lay on the bed. The body itself was butchered beyond recognition.

Maura closed her eyes briefly and calmed her beating heart.

When she opened them she was as calm and collected as she always was in the morgue.

She slowly scanned the room with her eyes, without moving from the window. A large amount of blood under the bed and near the wall seemed to indicate the body had been moved after the death to the left side of the bed. The right thigh had been carved out to the bare bone, and most of the mid section was missing, as well as the breasts.

The pieces were placed between her legs, at her feet and even on the side table.

Maura very carefully took two steps towards the middle of the room. From there, she saw that some of the organs had been placed under the head. She leaned down and recognized the uterus, kidneys and one breast. The face itself was slashed in all directions, parts of the flesh missing. As usual, the throat had been slashed and Maura gratefully concluded that the mutilation had taken place post mortem.

She turned around in place.

The woman's clothes were neatly folded and draped over the back of a chair, and her boots were in front of the fireplace. Maura noted the large amount of ashes, and the melted kettle spout. She couldn't spot anything in the fireplace that was not reduced to fine, white ash. Everything had been consumed. She looked around for any clues, traces, prints, blood outlines, marks, discarded tools, hair, twine, to no avail.

Nothing.

Nothing once again.

The noblewoman squatted, her hands grasping the fabric of her trousers by reflex, to look under the bed. Nothing.

Blood. Blood everywhere.

The killer must have been covered in it, yet he had once again escaped without a trace left behind.

Maura sighed and looked at the curtains covering the window. He had to get out through the window. The door was locked. How did he slip through without getting any stains on the curtains?

She looked at the fireplace again. "He burnt his clothes. At least his coat," she murmured to herself.

Maura suddenly heard footsteps and grumbles in the court outside, and her stomach jumped to her throat. Frost hadn't uttered a word of warning. Her heart started racing in her chest as she heard the men's voices approaching.

"Detective! Detective Frost! Oh Lord, the bugger must have looked inside."

They all chuckled uneasily. They all wished they hadn't looked either.

They were right by the window, with the door right by them. No way out.

Maura stepped back into the room, away from the detectives. She looked around, but the room was small, with no other doors or openings. She heard the men shake and slap Frost awake, and she heard him groan. Then abruptly stop. They all fell silent.

"Hey, Frost, are you alright?"

"Er..."

"Here comes the Superintendent. Straighten up, for Christ's sake!"

"What about the hounds, Sir?"

"We've waited long enough. Get that door open!"

Maura heard the bunch shuffle around outside, and suddenly a loud crack smashed against the door. She jumped and covered her mouth not to yelp.

Another crash and the door swung open.

Maura stood silently in the middle of the room, and she thought she might faint. She saw one of the men look in, his vision adjusting to the relative dim light of the room, and his eyes suddenly focused on Maura. His face fell and a strangled scream escaped his mouth. He stumbled back outside. Maura thought he'd sounded like a goat.

Another man stepped in and Maura recognized Superintendant Arnold.

"Lady Isles?"


End file.
